


Polar Opposites

by sosodesj



Category: One Direction (Band)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Still Have Powers, Explicit Sexual Content, F/M, I, Supernatural Elements, lll add more tags soon
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2014-10-30
Updated: 2016-08-14
Packaged: 2018-02-23 04:42:06
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 10
Words: 23,838
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2534573
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/sosodesj/pseuds/sosodesj
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>According to many, Meridelle Tudor is a murderer. She did kill her sister afterall. A year after, an accident happens and she is forced into the RISG, a special faculty, or prison as the subjects call it, for people with supernatural gifts.</p><p>True to her gift, Merridelle is cold and detached from everyone at the RISG, her sister's death still haunting her.</p><p>She meets Liam and hates everything about him, his talent bringing up nasty memories. But they must team up together to take control over the RISG before it takes control over them. Can two people, who are polar opposites, work as a team to survive?</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Anger

_“With_ _a pressure of about 2 Gigapascals - or about 20,000 atmospheres, which is the same pressure you get under 20 kilometres of ice or water - you can produce ice at normal room temperature. Explain this phenomenon._ _"_

“Oh my God! Who the hell cares?” I mumble angrily, staring at the chemistry homework with mounting anger. Sighing loudly, I lean back on my chair, rubbing my eyes tiredly.

Taking a sip of my iced-coffee, I stare outside, momentarily distracted by Seattle’s autumn colors. I watch as the cars roll down the streets, noise dimmed by the windows of the coffee shop. The trees are filled with fiery colors, red, orange and brown mingling together like flames.

I grimace, the season disgusting me. I didn’t like autumn. The leaves everywhere, the unstable weather, and the muddy patches here and there... that wasn’t for me. I was more of a winter person, absolutely loving the shimmering white snow covering everything, wearing hoodies all day and sitting with a book and hot cocoa near a window. And ice skating. Boy I loved ice skating.

A little bell rings, announcing yet another customer. I shake out of my reverie and start shuffling through my manual for the answer before jotting it down on the sheet.

_Under very high pressure, water turns into other solid states denser than both ice and liquid water, just as carbon transforms into diamond under extreme pressures._

I move on to the next question.

_“What two elements form ammonia?”_

_I don’t know, nor do I care._ I skip to the next question.

_“What is the state of matter of fire or flame? Is it a liquid, solid, or gas?”_

I scowl, shutting my books loudly.

“I’m done. That’s it, I don’t care what he’ll say,” I huff to myself, standing up from my seat and packing up my stuff. Once all is packed, I sling my bag over my shoulder, finish my drink and throw the cup in the garbage. I glance at my watch as I walk out.

8 o’clock. School starts in an hour. Perfect timing.

 

❅❄❅

 

“Meridelle Tudor, why is your homework incomplete?” Mr. Rothberg enquires, eyeing my half-answered sheet over his glasses. He glares at me, his dark eyes practically gazing into my soul.

“Well you see I didn’t see the purpose of knowing that kind of stuff and―”

“I don’t want to hear it. I need to talk to you after class,” he declares, huffing before giving me back my sheet.

I look around to see all my classmates gazing at me, annoyance clear on their features. I can practically feel the disgust emanating from them. I shrug and continue doodling in my notebook as the teacher continues verifying the homework.

I shut my mind as Mr. Rothberg starts teaching, not caring about all the nonsense coming out of his mouth. I wanted to learn something useful. Something that’d help me later on in life. Not some stupid formulas on pressure, temperature and volume.

When the bell rings, I don’t move right away, waiting for everyone to file out.

“Come here Meridelle.”

I huff, standing from my seat and walking all the way to the front to my teacher’s desk.

“What’s going on Meridelle?”

I look at him like he’s stupid.

“What do you mean?” I answer slowly.

“That’s the fifth time in two weeks you haven’t completed your assignments!”

“And?”

“Look I know it’s been hard. But we’ve given you more than enough time to grieve your older sister. You are purposefully screwing your year.” He exhales noisily, his thumb and forefinger rubbing his temples. “I know losing someone you love hurts alright? But I doubt she’d want you to screw the rest of your life because of her. You need to take a hold of yourself Meridelle. It’s been a year already.”

“You don’t know anything,” I respond dryly.

“You should try to make some friends and talk―”

“Make friends?!” I scoff. “Nobody likes me here. I’m the black sheep. I’m the girl who practically killed her little sister.”

“Meridelle if you’d only be a little nicer―”

“I don’t need friends,” I snap, tossing my blonde hair out of my face.

There’s a short moment of silence when all he does is stare at me, before he shuts his eyes and sighs.

“Meridelle you are 17 years old. Life is far from being over. I just don’t want you to completely ruin your chances of a successful future by messing up your last year in high school. Can you do that for me? Can you at least make an effort?”

“I am trying.”

“Not hard enough. I know you can do much better than what you are doing right now. You just need the power to push your life back into the right track.”

“Can I go now please?” I respond. “My parents are probably waiting for me.” _Lies._

“Do you promise to try? I know you can pull this off.”

“Yes, I promise,” I grumble, tapping my foot.

“Then you can go,” he nods, motioning the door.

“Thank you.”

I grab my books and head out. Ignoring the glares as I step outside the school, I rapidly walk to my grand-parents’ house. See I could’ve gone to my parents’ house, but the problem is that I know I’m no longer welcome after the incident. I like to believe they don’t hate me, that they don’t want me around because I remind them of Joy, my older sister, and it saddens them but deep down I know I’m lying to myself. They don’t even want to hear my name, no matter how hard my grandmother tries to reason with my mother. I don’t blame them either. After all, I did let my older sister burn alive. Accidentally. So that’s how I ended up under my grandparents’ custody, my grandmother more willing to keep me than my grandfather. We could say Joy was Grandpa’s little girl.

I storm right up to the guest room as soon as I’m ‛home’, grabbing a cupcake from the table before locking myself up in the bedroom and opening a book.

 

❅❄❅

 

“So how was school?” Grandma asks during supper, passing the salad bowl to her husband.

“It was okay,” I shrug. “Nothing interesting.”

My grand-parents look at each other briefly.

“The principal called,” Grandpa states, taking a bite out of a piece of bread. “Something about another unfinished homework.”

I exhale loudly, digging my fork into a piece of chicken.

“I tried doing it. But I couldn’t. Look I hate chemistry. It’s not even important,” I state, munching on my food slowly.

“But it is dear,” Grandma chuckles, smiling to herself.

“We talked about this young lady. Either you get your grades up or we have to start imposing study hours. You won’t be able to nestle in a corner with a book all the time,” Grandpa continues, looking at me pointedly.

“Why not? These books are way more interesting than reality,” I mutter, fingers drumming on the table.

“But they are not reality Meri... You have to know the difference.”

“Whatever,” I grumble.

Silence follows as we resume our meal and my mind starts drifting. I reminisce the accident that sent my whole life crashing, shuddering in unease as the sound my sister’s screams comes back to me. Anger and frustration bubble up inside me as I recall the horror on my parents face. The disgust. The raw revulsion of everybody at school.

My fingers reflexively clench around the glass of water I’m holding.

“Honey are you alright?” Grandma asks worriedly.

“Peachy.”

“Are you sure? You know you can talk to us about anything...”

“I’m perfectly fine,” I retort, annoyed.

“Don’t talk to your grandmother like that young lady,” my grandfather reprimands brusquely, his utensils dropping with a small clink. “You should be more respectful.”

“It’s no problem Joseph―”

“But it is. We took her into our own home and paid for her food,” he continues, getting carried on. “The least she could do is be a little more respectful towards us and be successful at school in order to get her diploma and get an appropriate job,” he declares.

“Joseph please―”

“At least Joy wouldn’t have messed up her life like you do. She had a future.”

“JOSEPH.” Grandma exclaims.

I stand up angrily. “Well I’m not Joy, and I never will be! So deal with it!” I shout, shooting him a dark look before stomping up the stairs and to my room, slamming the door so hard my arm actually ached. Filled with rage and hurt, I lose the control I had managed to keep for so long. I start screaming and sobbing all at once, pulling every single book I had off its shelf and throwing them to the floor.

“Meridelle―” I know Grandma means well, but I don’t want to talk. At all. That’s just what I do. I isolate myself from the world.

“Go away!” I yell, completely broken. I push everything that’s on the desk off, books, pencils and sheets of paper flying everywhere.

“Let me in―”

“No!” I hit the door hard, my hand flat on its surface before my forehead leans on the wood. “Please,” I cry, turning around and letting my knees give out under my weight. “I just want to be alone!” I sob, head leaning against the door as tears fill my eyes. “Please...”

I’m answered with silence. Digging my face into my knees, I shut my eyes and let the pain envelop me once more. I hear my sister’s pleading voice in my mind.

_“Please Meri!”_

“No!” I protest loudly.

A shiver rakes my whole body. My fingers clench around my jeans but I release them when a sudden rush of cold fills the atmosphere. I open my eyes, and am momentarily blinded by the whiteness of my surroundings. Placing my hand over my eyes, I gasp in shock as I finally see the blanket of snow and ice covering the bedroom like a winter wonderland. Small snowflakes are falling from the ceiling. I blink rapidly, not believing my eyes. I move to stand up, my hand slipping as it slid across the iced floor. I catch myself and manage to get back on my feet. I stare around confused, my bare feet on the ice. _Why aren’t I cold?_

“Grandma?” I enquire, voice still shaky from the tears. My hand wraps around the doorknob and I try twisting it but its frozen solid. “Grandma?!” I repeat, worried. I rattle the doorknob. “Grandma! Grandpa!” I yell, tapping loudly on the door. I shake the doorknob again and this time it falls off, shattering in my fingers.

Fear builds inside me as I push the door open. My heart stops. The whole house is frozen, layers of snow and ice covering everything. As I exhale in shock, a small cloud of vapour escapes my lips. I push the door open even wider, but stop moving when I hear a loud thump. Wincing, I peer over the wooden door. My breath catches in my throat and I faint.

 

❅❄❅

My head lolls heavily sideways, making me cringe.

“Subject 013 is showing signs of awakening.” A voice echoes in the room.

I grimace, blinking a couple times. My head hurts. _What the hell happened? There was snow everywhere..._ I shift to stretch but the rattling of chains startles me. Quicker than I would have thought possible, I’m suddenly fully alert, looking at my surroundings. I’m not in my grandparents’ home. I’m in a white room, with a single door mocking me a couple feet away from me. I try to move forwards but metal shackles restrain my movements. I begin fighting against the bindings.

“Whatever sick joke this is, it’s not funny!” I yell angrily, looking everywhere. “Let me go!” I continue, trying to pull my hands out of the metal shackles. I stand up, tugging towards me with all my strength but to no avail.

“Subject 013 is fully awake and kicking.”

“Subject 013 has a name fucktard!” I shout to the speaker irritably. “And I am not a subject! I’m a person! Let me out!” I say heatedly. I pull on the restraints once more. The metal cuts into my skin but I don’t care. I just keep pulling, desperately trying to be released from their hold.

“Subject 013 is showing signs of self-harm.”

“Fuck you!” I shout.

The door opens suddenly, revealing a man who appears to be in his mid-thirties. Everything about him screams impeccable, from his gelled hair to his shiny black leather shoes. He shuts the door before looking down at me. _Who the fuck is he?!_

“I am Samson Strife, director of the operations here at R.I.S.G,” he provides, his Australian accent strong. He holds out his hand for me to shake but I only sit and look at him intently.

_And what the fuck is that._

“The Research Institution for the Supernaturally Gifted.”

I’m shocked and confused. I didn’t utter a single word yet he answered both my questions.

“Yes it’s called mind-reading,” he supplies. “Anyways, you must be wondering what you are doing here? If you’re willing to cooperate, we can have a chat over some coffee. Maybe then things will be a little clearer.”

“I don’t like coffee,” I respond, frowning as I look him up and down.

“Iced-coffee then? That’d be better wouldn’t it?” He proposes, snapping his fingers. To my surprise, the shackles automatically fall off. I stare at him some more. Nothing about him is encouraging me to listen to him.

“I can promise you no harm will be done to you if you do as we ask.”

I stay unmoving.

“Now I’m being polite here, but I do not have all day, and neither do you. So either you move by yourself, or I’m fetching Derek,” he states, looking at his watch.

I glare at him challengingly. _Go fetch him then._

He gazes at me in disbelief, cocking his eyebrow upwards. I do not flinch.

“Fine then. I thought this could be done willingly but I guess you just need a little... persuasion.”

I watch as he opens the door and beckons somebody inside. I almost start laughing when I see the fifteen year-old boy enter. He isn’t threatening. At all. In fact, he’s like a puppy.

“Hey,” he says softly, looking at me. His hand grabs mine. “I want you to go with him,” he continues, his deep blue eyes staring into mine. “I _need_ you to go with him.”

My mind is drowsy. I find myself getting slightly dizzy, his words going over and over in my head. I mull over his order. It seems like a good idea. The best one ever. I have to listen to Derek. He needs it.

“I’ll follow you,” I tell Samson, the words forming easily on my lips.

“Thank you Derek. You can head back now.”

I watch, almost saddened as the dark-haired boy leaves. I push the thought away as Samson leads me out of the room, then through a couple corridors.

“In here,” the man says, opening an oak door. I walk inside, frowning.

“What did you do?” I ask, pissed. “I didn’t want to follow you!”

_Why did I listen to Derek?_

“My son has the powers of persuasion, dear. Now take a seat, we have a lot to talk about, especially about your newly permanent residency at the R.I.S.G.”


	2. Ice

I glower at him, staying motionless as he opens a drawer and pulls out a folder, placing it in front of him.

“So―”

“What do you mean permanent?!” I cut him off, crossing my arms over my chest. “There is no way I’m staying here until I die. I have a family. My grandmother will worry about me.”

Samson leans backwards in his seat, looking at me curiously. He cocks his face sideways.

“You don’t remember?”

“Remember what?”

“I think you should take a seat Meridelle,” he advises, motioning the chair in front of his desk once again. I don’t move. “Meridelle, I very _strongly_ suggest that you take a seat,” he repeats, his tone leaving no place for arguments. “You do not wish to make an enemy out of me. I only want to help you,” he continues, his green eyes daring me.

“I don’t need help,” I grumble, finally settling on sitting on the damn chair.

“I’ll be the judge of that.”

As Samson draws out a pen of his shirt pocket, my eyes rapidly scan his nearly empty office.

Filled with only five pieces of furniture, the room isn’t what I’d call welcoming. A desk, two chairs, a bookshelf and painting is enough to make my skin crawl. I can’t help making a face at the portrait of him hung right behind him, the representation imposing. My gaze shifts from the dull walls to the big, bolted metal door at the far end of his office. I can clearly see burnt marks as well as the multiple dents on it.

“You don’t have to worry your pretty little head about this room just yet alright?” Samson states, his voice tearing my eyes away from the door. “Anyways, back on your family. Your grandparents more precisely. We―”

“What did you do to them?” I ask dryly.

“I didn’t do anything to them. You did. You...how could I put this without destabilizing you?” he pauses, looking at me. “You froze them,” he drops. _Okay. That’s it._

“You are completely insane,” I scoff, fists clenching as I stand up. “All of this, it’s insane. No one has the ability to read minds or control others, let even freeze them. You’re on drugs or something,” I deny firmly, shaking my head.

“You don’t believe me?”

“Why the fuck would I believe a man who practically kidnapped me?!” I counter.

“How did I manage to answer your questions earlier then?”

“I’m easy to read,” I snap.

“Think of a color and I’ll prove you I can read your mind,” he huffs, annoyed.

“No. If you kidnapped me, no doubt you noticed I absolutely love teal and that’s the color I would’ve picked.”

“Then why did you feel obliged to listen to Derek?”

“Because I’m easily convinced and he is a cute boy,” I reason.

“I know about your sister.”

“Everybody knows about my sister!” I shout angrily, hitting the desk. I’m breathing hard, glaring at him.

“You ruined my desk,” he points out.

“I don’t―” My eyes grow big as remove my hand, a circle of shattered ice expanding around the place where I’d hit the wood with my fist. “The hell?” I gasp.

“Believe me now when I say you killed your grandparents?” Samson says calmly, his eyebrow cocking upwards.

“No. You said freeze. Not kill,” I stammer, realisation hitting me.

“Well dear I regret to inform you that when one is turned into a block of ice, the organs stop working after barely a few seconds. You killed both your grandparents when you iced the whole house.”

“The whole...the whole house?” I whisper, shaken. _My bedroom was filled with snow last night. As if a winter storm had raked the room. I couldn’t have possible done that._

“Yes the whole house. That’s how we managed to find you because lets be honest: it’s quite hard not to hear about a house in Seattle that’s completely frozen from the inside in the middle of October,” he chuckles. “No worries though, nobody can remember the event. You practically disappeared from everybody’s lives.”

“How?”

“One of my men can manipulate one’s memory,” he admits.  

 _This is crazy. I’m dreaming. I didn’t kill Grandma and Grandpa._ Terror starts invading me but I rapidly stifle the pain of their passing away, using the same technique I used when my sister died: denial. _No this can’t be. It’s not possible._

“It is very possible. Due to rare genetic alterations, you have what we call cryokinesis. It’s the ability to reduce the kinetic energy of particles in matter to modify its temperature to the point of freezing an object or a target entirely,” the green-eyed man elaborates.  I stare at him uncomprehendingly. “You can freeze stuff,” he sighs. “Though your talent seems to be fueled by strong emotions. You’ll learn to control it soon enough. This is what the R.I.S.G was made for. To help teenagers like you control their abilities to they can be released without being threats to the society.”

“Are there many others like me?” I question, stunned.

“None exactly like you but we’ve found about thirty who have the genetic variation but only a dozen are at the institution, the rest being mature adults. Boys are clearly more disposed of possessing this mutation though as you’re the only girl we’ve found so far.”

“What?!”

“Yes well your case is going to be studied.”

“I am telling you right away: I am not going to be a lab rat,” I state between clenched teeth.

“No. Of course not. Not yet anyways,” he chuckles nervously. “We’ll be giving you the time to adjust to your new home first and then maybe you’ll want to start cooperating if it means your release,” Samson smiles. I want to punch him. _This will never be home_. “Anyways enough talking or I’ll be late for my meeting,” he declares, standing up. He walks around the desk and grabs my upper arm tightly between his fingers. “Come one, I’ll lead you to your room,” Strife adds, dragging me out of his office.

I grimace as he takes me down a series of corridors and doors. We arrive in front of a heavy iron one. He presses in a code and it opens without a sound. Samson tugs me through before pushing me through a windowed door with a sign written **SUBJECT 013**. I stagger inside the sterile room. It holds a simple white bed with a large window.

“The suit on your bed is your uniform. You have to wear it all times,” he instructs, arranging his jacket.

“What about a shower? And going to the bathroom? Where do I go for all that?” I protest.

“Ask the others in the common room. I’m sure they’ll be glad to help you.”

“The common room?!”

“Down the corridor. It’s hard to miss.” He turns to leave but stops in his track, rotating on his heel. “Oh and the doors of your room locks at 10 o’clock each night and they unlock at 8 o’clock every morning, just like the doors of every other subject. You have to be in your room between those times or there will be consequences got it? Other than that you are free to roam around where you’re allowed. And obviously, you aren’t allowed to harm another subject. Any other questions before I go?”

_Apart from can you get me out of this hell?_

“Do you have some books I could read?”

He ponders the thought.

“If it can make your stay more enjoyable, then yes I can get someone to bring you some tomorrow,” he acknowledges. “I really must be going though. See you soon Meridelle,” he waves before exiting.

I sit on the bed, staring blankly at the wall. _This is an asylum._ I wince as a voice speaks through the ceiling.

“Subject 013 is asked to be in uniform in the shortest of delays,” the robotic voice demands.

“No thank you,” I snap, glaring at the speaker. I start mulling over the recent events of my life, my shoulders sagging. _Three people. I killed three people. I killed three people and I can’t even grieve properly. I’m a freak. The students at school were right._

“No they weren’t!” I shout angrily. _But they were._

As I do so, the fabric of the bed under my fingers suddenly frosts. “Fuckin’ great,” I mutter, standing up and looking as my frosted bed.

“Starting immediate heating of the room,” the automatic voice warns, a series of vents appearing in the ceiling.

I flinch as a heat wave swarms into the room through vents. Seconds later it stops.

“Warming complete. Initial room temperature restored.”

The bed isn’t frosted anymore.

“What in the world?!”

“Yeah our rooms are temperature sensitive,” a heavily accented voice drawls.

I jump in surprise, flipping around quickly. A boy that looks to be around my age is leaning on the door frame, a small smile on his face with his palm open. A small fire dances in the middle of his hand.

I watch him in wonder.

“You know because I’m pyrokinetic and you are, from what I’ve heard, cryokinetic,” he adds, dropping his hand and extinguishing the fire. “I’m sorry if I startled you,” he trails on, advancing towards me. “I’m Liam Payne,” he continues, his brown eyes shining as he holds his hand out for me to shake.

I stare at it, then back to his face.

“I won’t burn you if that’s what you think,” he frowns. Cautiously, I place my hand into his and shake it. A powerful force suddenly pulls at me and thin filet of steam starts emanating from our joined members. I rapidly remove my hand, holding it to my chest in worry. “That was unusual,” Liam puckers his brow, looking at his own hand. He snaps his fingers and a flame materializes over his digits. “But no harm done,” he shrugs. “So, want me to show you around this hellhole?”

“I want to be alone,” I reply, voice shaking. I feel my control starting to shatter, just like it did yesterday. I feel the guilt and sadness swallowing me whole again. “Please. I need time to myself,” I beg.

He gazes at me briefly.

“Fine. I’m in the common room if you change your mind,” he declares, shooting me one last glance before leaving my room.

As soon as the door shuts, I lose it. I start crying, digging up everything I had kept buried under Samson’s view. I weep my sister’s death, the killing of my loving grandmother and my imprisonment in this institution. It has been my way of coping during the last year or so. I just keep my feelings deeply buried until something breaks inside me and I grieve all over again for everything I can think of for a brief moment of time, before I calm myself and conceal it once more, only to repeat the process again and again. I can only hope that all this pain that is building up, that is suffocating me, will only end up being numb in the end.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Please leave a comment! They make my day!


	3. Mind Games

_“Joy no! What are you doing?!” I protest on the verge of tears as I watch my sister light a match._

_“I can’t do it any more Meri,” she shakes her head, tears falling down her cheeks, holding the flame up. “It’s killing me slowly anyways.” Her green eyes meet mine. “But not you. You have to leave now. Before it’s too late. You can still go on with your life Meri.”_

_“No I’m staying here with you until the end,” I shake my head teary-eyed._

_“Meridelle I love you... but I can’t be that selfish.”_

_“No!” I scream as she pushes me out of her room and locks herself in. “Joy!” I sob, banging on the door. Seconds later, the strong smell of smoke fills the air, escaping from under her door. “Joy please!” I cry, trying to burst the door._

“Joy!” I shout in fright, sitting up in bed. I’m panting in sheer terror, sweating madly from the roots of my hair to the tip of my toes. I’m hot all over, even though my nightmare has once again turned my room into a freezer.

“Starting immediate heating of the room,” the robotic voice declares as the usual series of vents appears in the ceiling.

I dig my face in my hands, still shaken by the vivid memory. I’m trembling.

Ever since my entry at the R.I.S.G, I couldn’t stop reliving parts of that painful night over and over again while I slept. Every second was haunting me. The nightmares came at night, but the painful memories drowned me during the day. And to make it worse, Samson still hadn’t brought me the books he promised, making the hours excruciatingly long due to the fact I couldn’t use my usual escape from reality.

When my room finally completes its heating, consequently returning to its normal climate, a knock resonates through the glass door. I lift my head up to see the devil enter.

“Meridelle you’ve been here for almost a week,” Samson states in disbelief as he walks in. He stops at the foot of the bed, eyeing me.

“Congratulations you can count,” I mutter, laying back on the bed and digging my face into the pillow.

“No Meridelle I am not in the mood for your child games. I meant that you have scarcely left your room during the last few days. Apart from going to the bathroom across the hall, you haven’t left at all to be more precise. You haven’t been properly feeding. You are growing weaker by the day and I can’t have that.”

“See if I care,” I mumble.

“You are useless to me if you’re dead.”

“Well I don’t want to be used! So maybe it’s a good thing if I die.”

“Enough,” he sighs, rubbing his temples. “I just want the best for your health,” he continues on a calmer voice.

“What’s best for my health is sleep. Now leave me be.”

“No. You are going to head to the common room today whether you like it or not,” he responds very dryly.

“Why?!”

“To eat a proper breakfast to begin with. And to have a little social interaction to empty your mind of your sister’s death. This recycling of memories isn’t good for your mental health.”

I lie unmoving.

“Do I have to fetch Derek again? Or maybe I should get Tristan over instead.”

_No thank you._

“Then stand up, and put your uniform. I’ll wait for you outside the door. If it takes you more than five minutes, I can promise you won’t like the events that’ll follow,” he ends before turning on his heel and leaving the room.

Reluctantly, I pick myself off the bed, grunting in displeasure. _This sucks._

My fingers curl around the fabric of the discarded uniform as I lift it off the floor, inspecting it. Mainly grey with white bands around the waist, it looks like a complex one-piece tennis outfit: a skirt and a t-shirt joined together. The fabric seems to allow the pores of the skin to breathe like sportswear and also be waterproof. Subject 013 is embroidered on its back, and a little snowflake design is stitched to both shoulders.

I slide the uniform over my body, zipping the fastener up the middle of my torso. I grimace.

“I hope you aren’t planning on making us superheroes,” I scoff as I step outside my room. “These uniforms suck.” My fingers pull the fabric, testing its elasticity.

“You are the first girl so yours is pretty much a prototype,” Samson says, looking at me up and down. “I’ll be glad to modify it if you wish to make specific changes linked to your ability.”

_Yeah last time you told me you’d do something you didn’t._

“The books are in my office. I’ll let you take one after our sessions,” he supplies, reading my mind.

“Our sessions?”

“Oh right,” he frowns, leading me down the hallway. “I forgot to tell you: I’m the psychologist here. Every single subject has at least two hours with me per week.”

“And what do we do during these sessions?” I question warily.

“We talk. I know being a teenager is hard so being different certainly doesn’t make it easier, that’s why I’m here to listen.”

I roll my eyes. _More like trying to find our weaknesses and making us feel bad._

“I know you don’t believe me, but I really do want what’s best for you Meri.”

“Don’t call me that.”

“Fine.” He shrugs, pushing a set of double doors open. I’m momentarily stunned once I enter what I assume is the common room. First thing that strikes me is the massive couch shaped like a giant donut right in the middle of the room, followed by the great chandelier right over it. About ten faces turn towards me as Samson urges me deeper into the room.

“Good morning boys!” He says cheerfully. They all stay emotionless. I don’t blame them. Strife places a hand on my shoulder and squeezes it.  “So yes the rumours are true: we brought in a girl. She was a little shy so I had to get her out of her room myself but now that she is out, I want you to make her feel welcome alright? You all know how it was when you first came in,” he continues, pushing me forwards. “I am warning all of you: no purpling. Got it?”

Some of them nod and others grunt their understanding.

“On that note I have to go, enjoy your day lads,” he pauses looking at me, “And lady. I’ll be seeing you very soon,” he adds to my intention before turning around and heading back through the double doors.

Uneasy, I look down and stir to return to my room but I end up walking into somebody’s torso.

“You weren’t planning on isolating yourself in your room again, were you?” Liam enquires, looking down at me. I take a step back.

“I-I-I-”

“I hope not because that’d be really rude.”

I jump in shock as another boy literally appears beside Liam. Blue-eyed and brown-haired, he’s smaller than Liam, but still is a head taller than me.

“I’m Louis,” he continues, holding his hand out. “And you’re the ice girl Liam hasn’t shut up about,” he trails on, placing his hand back in his pocket when he realises I wasn’t going to shake it.

“You aren’t much of a social butterfly hmm?” Liam chuckles.

“I’m not social with people I don’t know,” I counter, glancing around. All eyes seem to be on me.

“Well you do know me now... you can talk to me,” Louis intervenes with a smile.

I flinch as a bell rings. The group of boys stop staring at me, all walking towards a door at the end of the room.

“That’s breakfast,” Liam explains. “I really do hope you’ll join us.”

“I-I well I―”

“It’s good food.”

“You guys don’t even let me talk,” I give up. “I’m going back to my room.”

“Meridelle wait―”

“Don’t touch me!” I shout as his fingers latch around my arm, burning my skin. I gaze at his flaming hand, terror mingling with fear.

“Meridelle I didn't mean that-”

“Don't talk to me alright! Leave me be!” I continue angrily, eyeing the burn his fingers leave on my skin before stomping back to my room without a backwards glace.

“Louis don’t―”

I’m momentarily shocked as Louis appears in front of me and I reflexively push him away. Without my consent, cold seeps out of my fingertips, freezing Louis’s torso. I watch in horror as the boy grimaces and falls to his knees.

Liam is quick to help Louis while all I can do is run away to my cell without a backwards glance.

As I reach the door and pull the handle, the door doesn’t budge. I pull, twist and turn the knob with all my might, but nothing.

“It's locked.”

“No shit,' I snap to Derek, the younger boy leaning a few feet away from me. I rattle the handle again before giving up. “Leave me alone,” I mutter, sitting dejectedly on the floor.

“My father told me you'd probably come back to your room,” he continues casually.

I ignore him, tuning him out as I dug my face into my arms. _Louis. Did I hurt Louis? Why did he have to stop me?_

“He wanted me to make sure you'd be social today,” Derek ends, walking towards me. “I have to take you back.”

“Don't fucking touch me,” I seethe, not looking at him. “Or I'm freezing you to death.”

“Aww love don't be like that,” he chuckles, crouching beside me. “You wouldn't be able to do that, now would you?” He insists, his finger tilting my chin upwards. Our eyes meet. “You wouldn't do that, right?' he repeats, his gaze piercing through mine.

I feel my anger melt, replaced with trust and comfort.

“No,” I sigh, shutting my eyes. “I feel so moody these days, I'm sorry,” I apologize.

“That's completely normal. Let's go eat yeah? You'll feel much better afterwards,” he invites, holding out his hand. It seems like such a great idea I can't help acquiescing, my hand slipping into his without hesitation. My mind is fogged as I find myself following him back to the common room and out the door at the far end of the room.

He opens the door and walks inside.

Uneasiness fills me as faces turn once more. I move to step away but Derek keeps a firm grip on my hand, leading me towards one of the two tables in the small cafeteria. My eyes meet Louis’s at the table opposite to the one which Derek was leading me to.

I frown slightly, noticing he doesn’t seem at all phased by my earlier attitude, nor does he seem to have any scars of my small assault.

He sends me a challenging smirk before, tapping on Liam’s shoulder beside him. The brunette turns towards me as Derek urges me to take a seat with three other boys.

“This is Ryan, Thomas and Marcos,” he introduces, motioning a boy with pale blue eyes and jet black hair, followed by identical twins with blonde hair and chocolate eyes. They nod but don’t say anything, engrossed in their food.

I flinch as a plate is placed in front of me.

“Eat Meridelle,” Derek instructs, taking a seat beside me.

A small burst of my proper mind makes me form words.

“I want to leave,” I shake my head, unsure.

“No, Meridelle, you want to eat,” he contradicts, his eyes fixing mine. Without anymore hesitation, I nod and grab a toast.

“What do you think you’re doing Derek?” Liam snaps, standing up. Utensils clink as tension spreads through the room like a hungry fire.

“Why Liam, I am just making sure Meridelle interacts with us,” he responds smoothly, his hand touching mine. I want to talk but my lips can’t seem to form the right words, too focused on having to eat.

“By forcing her to be here?” the British boy retorts, his hands reddening.

“She wants to be here, don’t you Meri?” Derek replies, his eyes meeting mine briefly. I nod, a little confused.

“She made it clear two minutes ago she wasn’t ready to intermingle with us,” he counters dryly.

“Father deemed she was.”

“Yeah well we all know your father isn’t right most of the time and that you’re a manipulative bastard!”

Hell breaks loose as Liam sends a fireball to Derek’s head. Almost immediately, two men in white uniforms step out from God knows where and tackle Liam. He starts fighting them off and Louis automatically jumps on them. Ryan and Thomas hastily stand up and try to pry Louis off. The others eat calmly in their seats, witnessing in silence the jumble of bodies on the floor.

The fog in my mind dissipates and I finally get a proper grasp on reality.

 _What. The. Hell?! What am I even doing here?_ I look around, noticing Derek a few feet away from me, looking at the fight with interest but not taking any part in it. _Why isn’t he burned?_ His eyes meet mine briefly and he smiles cheekily.

Frustration builds inside me as I comprehend he used his little mind games on me. Again. Without thinking, I hold my hands out and let the irritation fill me. A torrent of snowflakes escape my palms, hitting Derek square in the chest. He falls backwards and I jump on him, only to be restrained by a set of men.

“You dick!” I seethe, trying to free myself and hit him. “Stop playing with my head!” I shout angrily as I fight the men holding me. A hand touches my cheek. Out of the blue, the urge to cry overwhelms me.

Tears filling my eyes, I stop fighting and let myself get carried away, feeling utterly helpless and sobbing like a child.

As I’m dragged out of the cafeteria, I catch a glimpse of Louis and Liam crying and also being dragged away and I put the pieces together: one of those men dressed in white can make people cry with a touch of his fingertips.


	4. Torture

“You didn't have to stand up for me,” I mumble to Liam as the three of us are seated like troublesome kids in front of Samson's office.  “I can take care of myself.”

“Oh really? Because having Derek controlling you is totally taking care of yourself,” he retorts, wiping his reddened eyes from his previous crying.

“I had it under control,” I insist.

“Whatever,” he responds, eyeing the two men watching us tensely. I recognise the red-haired one who touched me earlier. I’m willing to bet he was the one who made us cry. Our eyes meet and I shiver.

I shift my gaze to Louis who’s outspread on his chair.

“What's your gift Louis?” I ask after awhile of silence, curious.

“Oh so now you want to talk?” he mocks in slight irritation.

A pang of guilt hits me.

“I didn't mean to be so cold...”

I watch in awe as a cartoon cloud appears over Louis's head before a miniature lightning bolt shoots out and rain starts pouring on his head, drenching his clothes.

“Great! Are you serious?! You didn't mean to be so cold? Don't you see the irony?!” He scoffs.

I blink a couple times, rubbing my eyes. _What in the world?!_ A puddle of water forms around him.

“No you're not dreaming,” Louis grumbles, pulling out an umbrella from his back pocket as if it happened every day. _How did an umbrella fit in his pocket?!_

“What is this?”

“Cartoon physics,” he responds once the little cloud floats away before disappearing with a POP, letters actually appearing into thin air. _This is crazy!_

“Cartoon physics?” I repeat, confused.

“I can apply cartoon properties to this world.” He sighs, noticing I still don't understand. “Just like a Looney Tune, I could get hit by a train, burnt to a crisp by dynamite or anything really and I wouldn't feel it because I'm immune to pain. I can dim the pull gravity has on me and I can bend any particle or atom to my will.”

“Whoa wait a sec. I sucked at physics and chemistry... what does that last part mean?”

“He can mostly be invisible and other things,” Liam supplies, still gazing at the two men dressed in white uniforms. “He's pretty much like a cartoon character. One who can be all of them at once.”

“So you can pretty much do anything?” I say in wonder, thinking of all the possibilities.

“Yeah. But there are rules: I can't kill anyone and I can only use my gift when the situation is considered ironic, funny or simply life threatening. Which really sucks. I'm useless most of the time.”

“I don't think it sucks. It's better than what I have. At least you're not lethal,” I retort, thinking about my grand-parents. About how I’d murdered them.

“I don't think it's that much better. You're not the one who'll watch everyone they love die.”

“Louis that's just another one of Strife's crazy theories,” Liam shakes his head, slouching on his chair. “You're not immortal. I'm pretty sure you'll end up dying like all of us one day or another.”

“Liam I haven't changed for the last year. At all. I've been measured, weighed, checked from the roots of my hair to the tip of my toes: I have not aged or changed since this cursed gift,” he spews angrily, his fingers tightening on the seat of his chair. “I'm never going to die. Never. How can I even fathom the thought of having my own family if I know I’ll end up burying them all?” he continues, pained.

“Louis stop over thinking. It's what Strife wants,” the brunette shakes his head, rubbing his friend's shoulders. “You can't let him get to you.”

The door of Samson's office open's, revealing the devil himself.

“You three, in my office,” he motions, beckoning us inside. My fists clench as I watch Louis and Liam stand up. “You too Miss Tudor,” he stares at me as I sit unmoving. _No._ “Ed. Tristan.”

Both men move from their statue-like position, approaching me.

“You don't even let me the chance to standing!” I spew angrily. The two men stop moving as Samson lifts two fingers.

“You weren't planning on standing until now,” he replies calmly before holding his hand out. “I can read your mind dear, don’t forget that.”

Grimacing, I shift my weight to my feet and walk myself into his office, feeling him right behind me. I take a seat at the chair beside Louis in front of Samson's desk.

“I’m very disappointed boys,” Strife sighs as he shuts the door behind him. I keep my eyes focused on him as he sits as his desk, knitting his fingers in front of him as he leans towards us. “Not more than thirty minutes after my departure and there’s a fight in the cafeteria. Started by you,” he continues, pointing Liam.

“Your son started it,” he replies hotly. “If he hadn’t been messing with Meridelle―”

“He wasn’t messing with her. I asked him to help her fit in―”

“By bloody controlling her?!” Liam protests heatedly, his hands igniting.  “If removing her will is not controlling her than I bloody wonder what your definition of 'control' is!” My own fists clench.

“Liam calm down. I make the decisions here. Not you.” Samson retorts dryly.

“You’re making decisions that only benefit yourself!” He spews, his fist hitting the desk as he stands up. “You claim you’re doing this for us but you're really doing this for your own fucking benefit!”

“Liam!” Samson stands up, his look deadly. “Sit. Down.”

“Weird you haven’t called Tristan yet! Is because you’re trying to look nice to us around her? You’re scared she’ll find out that all you’re doing is using her like you’re using us?” Liam mocks, motioning me. “Well guess what? You aren’t fooling anyone!”

“Enough!” he booms.

The door opens in a flash and suddenly, Ed and Tristan jump on Liam. Immediately, the brunette starts crying, fat droplets of water escaping his eyes. In complete submissiveness, he drops to the floor, grimacing in pain.

“You're a fucking bastard,” Louis snarls angrily, watching as his friend gets carried away through the heavy metal door at the end of Samson's office. “He's right. So fucking right.”

“Would you like to join him then, Mr. Tomlinson?” he retorts coolly.

“Join him where?” I enquire.

“Torture.”

“Discipline,” the man rectifies. “How am I supposed to help you if you don’t want to help yourselves?”

“Meridelle he’s lying, don’t listen to him! He’s using us for his own benefit! He doesn’t give a damn about us!” Louis stands, a bubble with a string of angry drawings and curse words appearing over the brunette’s head.

“Tomlinson you’re joining Liam.”

“Fine. See if I give a fuck!” He snaps, walking himself through the door where Liam had disappeared.

Samson shuts it behind them, locking it shut with a deep sigh. The man rubs his temples, sitting down at his desk.

“I’m so sorry Meridelle to have seemed so harsh; these boys have always been rowdy and they seem convinced that I’m the bad guy,” he exhales, arranging the papers on his desk. “Now as for you―”

The door behind him rattles, making me jump. I frown.

“What exactly are they doing back there?” I enquire.

“You don’t want to know.”

“I do want to know,” I shake my head, “that’s why I’m asking.”

He purses his lips, looking at me longly before answering.

“I drain them of their energy and―”

“So it really is torture,” I cut in.

“No,” he shakes his head. “We simply drain their supernatural essence and replace it with the normal human one. I’m doing them a favor.”

There’s Liam’s pained shout at the other side of the door, making goose bumps rise on the surface of my skin.

“Really? Doing them a favor?” I scoff, standing.

“I wouldn’t call it Discipline if it wasn’t painful,” he tries to reason, also standing. “It’s not even permanent. Their blood vessels, our blood vessels, fight the human ones. They get their gifts back within the next couple hours,” he elaborates. “We needed a form of punishment here or it’d be chaos. We can’t tolerate chaos in an atmosphere as fragile as ours.”

I wince as I hear another pained shout. _He’s a sadist. Listening to those screams without flinching is sadistic._

“Can I go please?” I ask before he can reply to my thoughts.

He eyes me warily for mere seconds, and stands. Samson walks to the bookshelf, before pulling out a book. He hands it to me. Alice in Wonderland.

“Are you serious?” I frown, taking it.

“Very. I think it can be a step in your mental development.”

“Of course. Because reading a book about a crazy little girl can help me,” I roll my eyes.

“You never know. I’m very curious of how you’ll perceive this book,” he ends, sitting back down on his chair. More tortured screams fill my ears. “I’ll see you tomorrow Meridelle.”

“Whatever,” I sigh, leaving his office. As I walk back to my room, I eye the worn cover of the book. Clearly, this book had seen things, had some sort of history. Knitting my eyebrows, I skim the pages. Yellowed with spots of ink here and there, it seems to have been written, not printed. Curious.

Still bemused, I push on the door leading inside my room and enter. I stop dead in my tracks and drop the book when I notice there’s a boy carelessly lying on my bed.

“I’m Zayn,” he starts before I can urge him out.

“Well Zayn you’re in my room and I’m not in the mood to talk to anybody. So please, get out,” I state firmly. He cocks his eyebrow upwards.

He sighs deeply, passing a hand trough his dark hair.

“Fine then,” he exhales, standing up slowly from my bed. “I only wanted to let you know that I’m glad to have you here with us,” he trails on, approaching me. I tense as he comes too near. “Because I’ll finally be able to have some fun,” he chuckles in my ear.

“Why? What’s your gift?!” I enquire worriedly.

“Oh you’ll find out soon enough,” he smirks, walking away. “See ya Meri,” he finishes, giving me a short wave before exiting my room.

I stare at the door for a good minute before bending down to grab the book. A page falls out as I pick it up. Frowning, I look at it. One side is blank. The other has ten words written in neat script: Read Between The Lines And You Shall Find The Sign.

I gaze at the page longly, rereading the same ten words about twenty times. _Just what might it mean?_


	5. Reaction

_“Hey Mer, can you promise me something?” Joy asks me as we're sat on the swings. The park was murky that day, going with the mood we'd just learned about my sister. About her illness. Only me and her knew about it, and Joy was planning on keeping it this way. I didn't blame her: my parents would be destroyed if they learned that their perfect daughter would be dead way before she'd have had a proper life._

_“Anything,” I nod, eager to please her any way possible._

_“Help people. Be kind. It'll never be to your disadvantage to be nice with the people around you,” she says._

_“Are you saying that so I can make you breakfast in bed?” I joke._

_“And massage my feet and do my homework,” she nods, grinning. I give her a playful shove and she returns the action. We keep on teasing each other for a bit before her gaze drops to her feet dangling off the swing. She kicks the dirt a little. “But I was completely serious Mer...It's a vicious world and you'll need all the allies you can get to survive it. “Being friendly and helpful is the first step.”_

_“But the people are just so... self-centred. All they think about is their needs, their things, and their life. Why should I care about them if they won't care about me?” I shrug my shoulders. “That's exactly why I read books: the characters are not all egoistical. They actually have motives in life.”_

_“People can surprise you...In all the books you read, the protagonists always have friends, don't they? People who support you no matter what?”_

_“Family can play that role. I don't need more than my family,” I shake my head. Her hand lands on my shoulder, squeezing lightly._

_“Meridelle...Things won't be the same when I’m gone, you know that right?”_

_I don't reply._

_“I have a feeling our family is going to be much more different Mer―”_

_“I have some time. It's all I need to fix things,” I decide._

I blink a couple of times. Alice in Wonderland falls to the floor with a dull thud as I sit up from my short nap. Small snowflakes are drifting aimlessly around me. As one of them touches the floor, the heating fan starts and makes the rest melt in a matter of seconds.

“Temperature restored.”

I roll my eyes. “Snowflakes aren't even dangerous, I don't see why they have to go,” I tell the robot intercom. It doesn't answer.

Huffing, I bend down and pick up my book where I left off. 

**“The Caterpillar and Alice looked at each other for some time in silence: at last the Caterpillar took the hookah out of its mouth, and addressed her in a languid, sleepy voice.**

**“Who are _you_?” said the Caterpillar.**

**This was not an encouraging opening for a conversation. Alice replied, rather shyly, “I—I hardly know, Sir, just at present—at least I know who I _was_  when I got up this morning, but I think I must have changed several times since then.”**

**“What do you mean by that?” said the Caterpillar, sternly. “Explain yourself!”**

**“I can’t explain _myself_ , I’m afraid, Sir,” said Alice, “because I’m not myself, you see.”**

**“I don’t see,” said the Caterpillar.**

**“I’m afraid I can’t put it more clearly,” Alice replied, very politely, “for I can’t understand it myself, to begin with; and being so many different sizes in a day is very confusing.”**

**“It isn’t,” said the Caterpillar.**

**“Well, perhaps you haven’t found it so yet,” said Alice; “but when you have to turn into a chrysalis—you will someday, you know—and then after that into a butterfly, I should think you’ll feel it a little queer, won’t you?”**

**“Not a bit,” said the Caterpillar.**

**“Well, perhaps _your_  feelings may be different,” said Alice: “all I know is, it would feel very queer to  _me_.”**

**“You!” said the Caterpillar contemptuously. “Who are _you_?”**

**Which brought them back again to the beginning of the conversation.”**

“This is going in circles,” I sigh, shutting the book and placing it on the bedside table. I rake my fingers through my hair once, then twice, before exhaling loudly.

The conversation I had with Joy in my dream, the actually memory, replays a few times in my head. I look at the clock sitting right above the door. _Almost 5 o’clock._ Surely _Strife is done with his ‘discipline’; it’s been more than three hours!_ Standing up, I decide I need to see Liam. He helped me earlier, seems only fair I return the favor so we’re even.

I pause as I step through the door, realizing I don’t even know where his room is. I bite my lip, stepping back into my room.

“It’s not like I didn’t try...” I say out loud, trying to convince myself.

“You didn’t try anything,” the robot voice denies. I roll my eyes.

“Oh so now you’re talking? Thank you for sharing your opinion, but it was not needed,” I state.

“I believe it was. You did nothing but step to the door, and back into your room,” the robotic woman’s voice continues. “You didn’t try.”

“Shall I call you Conscience?” I scoff.

“Actually, my name is C-IRGAH013, which stands for Computerized Intelligent Robot Guide And Helper for Subject 013, but Conscience sounds fine,” the voice replies.

“Great,” I grumble, rubbing my temples. “I’m talking to a robot.”

“Call me Conscience.”

“I’m not calling you that, it was a joke,” I state dryly.

“Ha. Ha.” The laugh is monotone, free of feeling. “I still wish to be called Conscience.”

“Fine. Whatever,” I say in exasperation. The room stays silent. Then it hits me. “Would you happen to know where Liam Payne’s room is situated?” I enquire to the computer, looking at the ceiling. I’m replied with silence. “Hello?” I ask. “Conscience?” I mumble in annoyance, face-slapping myself inwardly. Still, there’s no answer. “Great. Fucking great.”

“Maybe another Subject could help you. Most of them are currently waiting for supper,” the computer proposes.

“I’m not going to talk to them,” I shake my head.

“Then like I mentioned earlier, you haven’t tried anything.”

I flip my middle finger in the air, irritated. But I end up walking out of my room and to the cafeteria anyways, knowing I had to see Liam and maybe help him a little. Do anything that will erase my debt. And then get back to my room and sulk.

As I step in the cafeteria, I notice Derek’s absence first. His gang is there, huddled around a table, but he’s not there. Not paying much more attention to his absence then I would on a cockroach, my gaze lands on Zayn in the farthest, most isolated corner of the cafeteria. There’s a curly haired-boy beside him. As if he knows he’s being observed, the lanky boy turns around to look at me, shakes his head and speaks to Zayn. The darker boy’s gaze falls on me and he smiles, motioning me forwards.

For a split second, I think about heading back to my room and forgetting about Liam altogether. But I clench my fists, taking a deep breath before advancing towards them. I can feel many gazes on me as I walk through the handful of boys, but I’m focused on Zayn. Zayn and his answer.

“You have a question to ask me.” Zayn declares before I can even utter a single word. “Didn’t know you were that eager to get to know me.”

“I’m not here for you―”

“I know that sweetheart. You want to know where Payne’s room is.,” he responds, looking at me under his long eye lashes.

“How do you know that? Do you read minds? Like Samson?”

“Nope. Harry here told me about your... intentions. He just knows that kind of stuff.”

I look at Harry, but he avoids my gaze, focusing on twiddling his thumbs. “And how would you know that kind of stuff?”

“Just like you control ice and snow, he just knows.”

I gaze at Harry, waiting for him to confirm but he doesn’t shift or make any effort to speak to me.

“He’s not talkative,” Zayn explains.

“I gathered that much.”

“You’re not talkative either,” Harry points out, his voice drawling in heavy British. His green eyes meet mine briefly before he resumes his twiddling his thumbs without adding anything else.

“Whatever,” I shake my head. “Liam’s room. Where is it?” I question Zayn.

The dark boy licks his lips.

“That information will cost you sweetheart,” he smiles.

“Cost me what? I don’t have any money.”

“I have no care for money; it’s useless in this hellhole. No, I want to make a little experiment on you,” he trails on, his eyes going down on me slowly.

“No way,” I scoff, guessing his thoughts pretty easily.

“I give you my word it doesn’t involve touching you,” he proposes. “I’m just curious.”

“And what is your word worth exactly?”

“I don’t break my word.”

“If only you knew the number of times I heard and read that phrase,” I sneer. “Classic reply.”

“He’s being truthful,” Harry sighs, surprising me. “He’s glowing; he’s speaking the truth.”

I look at Zayn again. _He’s definitely not glowing. But he doesn’t look like he’s lying either._

“Fine,” I give up, throwing my hands in the air. “What experiment?”

“Don’t move,” he instructs.

I sigh, crossing my arms over my chest.

“Ready?”

“Yeah,” I huff in annoyance.

Next thing I know, every single cell of my body is demanding Zayn. I simply need him. I crave a sexual interaction with him. _Fuck._ It physically hurts to be so far away from him. Before I know it, I’m standing between his open legs as he’s sat on the chair.

“So?” Zayn enquires, releasing me of the mental clutch he clearly had on my mind.

“Disgusting. That’s what you are!” I spew angrily, shuddering as I take ten steps away from him.

“Really? Your body’s telling a different story. I could feel it pulsing madly for me a second ago,” he smirks.

“Liam’s room. Now,” I snap, wanting to get as far away from Zayn as possible.

“Room 2. It’s in the South wing of this building. Want me to guide you?” he suggest, that cocky smile still stuck to his lips.

“No. I’ll manage,” I retort dryly, not even considering saying goodbye before I march right outside the cafeteria and into the common room.

I look around me, searching for anything that could tell me where the South wing is. Then I see it, the four letters in front of the four corridors leading out of the common room. A small N is pinned above the corridor leading to my own room. _North._ I turn around to the corridor across from it: there’s an S. _South._

Nodding once, I step into the South corridor and walk for about five minutes, before I reach the glass door with an engraved two. I knock once, looking through the glass at his inanimate form on the bed.

“Liam?” I call out. There’s no answer. I knock again. “Liam?!”

This time he stirs, sitting up with a grimace. He falls back down on his bed, clearly too exhausted to hold himself up. I decide to let myself in.

The first thing I notice when I enter his room is the scorching heat. My hand grazes the wall, and I look up at the ceiling fan, frowning. _Why is it so hot if his room is cooling down?_ As I walk towards Liam, I realise he’s the one sweating madly. The heat is emanating from him.

“Liam,” I gasp. Beads of sweat are gathering on his forehead, his bed is drenched.

“’m so hot,” he gasps, face pulled into a tortured grimace. “So, sooo hot,” he whines.

“I don’t understand,” I frown. “Your room is cool. It’s actually chilly in here,” I state.

“Hot. Human. Body. Not. Used,” he says between contorted scowls.

I place the back of my hand to his forehead. It’s scorching hot, as if he has a terrible fever.

His hands grab mine.

“Make. Cold,” he please, fingers intertwining with mine.

“I can’t―”

He shakes his head.

“Can. Fo. Cus,” he presses, getting his words out with difficulty.

Taking a deep breath, I place my hands on his heart, which clearly is the source of all the heat. But then something unusual happens as soon as my hands touch the steaming flesh over his heart. There’s a flash of white light, followed by the feeling of being swallowed. I pull my hands away rapidly.

“What. Was. That!?” I pant, looking at my hands in shock and bewilderment. I lift my head up, my fingers still tingling, as if charged with electricity.

“I have absolutely no idea,” Liam shakes his head. The heat doesn’t seem to be suffocating him anymore. There is no trace of pain left in features. In fact, he looks pumped with adrenalin. He’s on his feet in a matter of seconds. “But whatever it was,” he trails on, snapping his fingers and making a small flame dance over them, “whatever that was, it gave me my essence back quicker than it was supposed to regenerate back into my body,” he states, astounded. “Do you know what that means?” he enquires.

“That I don’t owe you anymore,” I state, still looking at my hands. I move my fingers, feeling a foreign energy flowing through them.

“No, it means we have an advantage on Strife,” he responds excitedly.

“Whoa whoa. Calm down. There is no we. I came here to help you, and by the looks of it, I did,” I say, looking at him. “My debt is paid. So ciao,” I end.

I turn to head back to my room but his hand grabs my arm.

“Meridelle wait!”

I grimace as his hot skin burns mine.

“Careful!” I snap, gazing at the red marks his fingers are leaving on my skin.

“I’m sorry.” He doesn’t seem sorry at all, only overjoyed. “But hear me out: Strife can’t know about this. Whatever it was,” he urges.

“I’m not going to tell him.”

“But you can’t think about it either,” he reasons.

“So what do you suggest I do?!” I throw my hands in the air in exasperation. “And what if this was only a onetime thing? Maybe it won’t happen ever again,” I huff.

“Then we’ll have to experiment. We’ll have to see if what we can do together. ”

“No. There is no we. I rather keep to myself,” I say, pulling my arm out of his grasp. “Bye Liam.”

“I’m not done!” Liam states. A wall of fire ignites of me.

I take ten steps away from the flames in fear.

“What the fuck?!” I yell, turning around to face him angrily. My fists clench. “Bring that barrier down!”

“No, you’re not leaving until I’m finished with you,” he shakes his head.

“Excuse me?!”

“Beginning heavy air conditioning―”

“Not right now Psyche,” the brunette tells the computerized voice, keeping his gaze on me. _Oh so I’m not the only who named my robot companion?_

“You have five minutes,” Psyche responds robotically.

“I’m giving you three,” I snarl. “What do you want from me?”

“I’m only trying to help you Meri. Strife wants to make us believe living here is our only way of survival, but it isn’t. We’re treated like lab rats, used for his own purposes. All I want if for you to keep what happened between us a secret, so we can use it as an advantage against Strife when the moment is right,” he explains.

“How do you expect me to keep him out of my mind?” I give up. “This,” I motion around, “is sure to pop up somewhere in my head.”

“Harry. We’ll ask Harry to hide this part of your mind. And mine too,” Liam decides.

“Harry?” I shut my eyes. “Liam, it’s hopeless alright?”

“I’ll do my research, and if it ends up useless, well I’m just going to have to find something else. You want to get out of here, right?”

“I don’t know honestly: I don’t have much to look forward to if I get out anyways,” I retort. He sighs.

“You’ll see Meridelle, that a week here won’t be a vacation. It’ll be hell. Now come on, let’s go ask Harry for the little favor,” he finishes, walking to his door. The wall of fire drops just as he’s about to cross it. “Are you coming?” he asks.

“I’m not going to see Harry if he’s with Zayn,” I state, crossing my arms over my chest.

“Well I’m sorry but these two are always together so―”

“I’m just going to head back to my room alright? I’m not seeing Zayn ever again,” I declare again.

“Why not?”

“Because his ability is freaky and disgusting and vile,” I spew, goose bumps rising on my skin at the thought of it.

“Malik has a gift?” Liam frowns. “Wow. Thought he just sat around all day being broody and cocky. What is it?”

“I don’t know what it’s called but it made every single cell of my body crave him. Sexually,” I tell Liam, shuddering once more. The brunette’s eyebrow cocks up.

“Did it really?”

I nod curtly.

“Well that’d explain why nobody knew about it. Clearly, he’s not gay because he hasn’t used it on anybody but you so far,” he concludes. “Come on. It’s going to be time for supper anyways,” he invites, holding his hand out.

I walk to the doorframe, hesitating to cross the place where the fire licked the tiles barely a few seconds ago.

“I’m not going to light it again,” he reassures. I step over it carefully, looking at the spot with disdain. “You have something with fire, don’t you?” Liam remarks, shutting the door of his room once I’m out.

“No.”

“Yeah you do,” he nods. “You practically stop breathing when you see a small flame,” he continues as we walk down the corridor.

“I do not.”

“Believe me Meridelle; I can recognize the fear in someone’s eyes. And you definitely have it.”

“And? You’ve got a problem with that?” I give up in annoyance.

“Nope. I’m just hoping you’ll get rid of it because if I can promise you something Meridelle, it’s that I won’t let fire harm you. Ever.”

“What about these burn marks?” I scoff, motioning my arms. We pause in the corridor.

“They are frostbites. Your body had a weird and very strong reaction to mine,” he chuckles, examining them.

My eyes drop to my arms to notice that indeed, what I would’ve sworn to be burn marks a few seconds ago are now frostbites.

“You should maybe get them checked out,” he points out, touching one of them lightly with his fingers. As soon as his skin comes in contact with mine, a soft yellow glow lights the wounded area. He removes his finger.

I inspect my skin. My eyes grow big. There’s no trace of frostbite anymore.

“This is mental,” he whispers.

“You don’t say,” I whisper back.

A bell rings.

“Suppertime. Come on,” he says, still looking at me in awe.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I made images on twitter :D @sosodesj


	6. Basic Survival Instincts

I follow closely behind Liam as we walk down the corridor and into the common room then through the cafeteria. We grab trays and serve ourselves from the services stands before the brunette walks to Zayn and Harry’s isolated table at the far end of the room. Zayn is very clearly talking to the curly-haired boy.

“Before you two say anything, I’m all in,” Zayn states as we take a seat, me as far away from the dark boy as possible.

“Is this even safe enough to talk?” Liam enquires, looking around.

“Yeah. They want nothing to do with us; I made sure of it,” Zayn nods. “Relationships and feelings is my stuff,” he explains, winking in my direction. I shiver and Liam scoots closer to me. “But like I said, I’m all in for your plan of overthrowing of Samson,” the black-haired boy precises lowly.

“We’re not certain of doing that yet,” Liam shakes his head, planting his fork into his lasagna.

“Harry filled me in. Whatever it is you two have, it’s powerful and useful.”

“We don’t even know what we have yet,” I deny, irritated. “Maybe what happened was a onetime thing. Maybe it’ll end up killing us in the end,” I reason.

“That’s why we need to try-out some things,” Liam persists. “Make some personal research.”

“So you want me to hide a part of your mind to make experiments?” Harry enquires. “How are you planning on experimenting something like this? It’s unheard of.”

“Might have to head back to Discipline a few times,” Liam shrugs. “It’s not like I’d mind punching Derek again.”

“But what if whatever you two have doesn’t work? You’ll end up where Louis is right now, in severe, long-lasting pain, isolated in your room,” Harry counters.

“How do you even know that? Not once have you step foot in Discipline.”

“We observe things, mate,” Zayn points out to a frowning Liam. “Being rowdy and acting like a godamn rebel superhero all the time does nothing but get the supervisors on you. Harry and I, we had the chance to notice things from our corner.”

“And what did you notice?”

“That, Meridelle, is information that comes with a price,” he taunts. His words spark arousal within me. Liam stiffens beside me as a moan rises up to my throat unwillingly. His hand grips mine. To my great surprise, the spell breaks as his skin makes contact with mine with a small sizzling sound.

 “There will be none of that Malik, without her consent,” he warns dangerously.

 “You broke it,” Zayn frowns; also realising he couldn’t play with my arousal.

“What?”

“I’m unable to have power over her when you’re touching her,” he continues in awe. “Harry do you still have access to their intentions?”

“No...They’ve disappeared. They’re grey,” the British boy, shakes his head, looking at us. I remove my hand from Liam’s. “And they’re white again,” he declares, eyeing us up and down. “So something really does happen when you two touch,” he mutters to himself.

“Yeah well that something gave me frostbite a few minutes ago and almost killed me when I touched his heart in his room. I’m done with all of this,” I huff, standing up in annoyance.

“Meri―”

“No don’t force her Liam. Or she really won’t help us,” I hear Harry say behind me. I roll my eyes. _Pfft._ _Of course I’m not going to help them. There’s nothing for me if I do get out anyways. Better rot in here where my powers are controlled._

I head back to my room and lock myself in.

“Did you find who you were looking for?” Conscience enquires robotically.

“Yes. No thanks to you,” I roll my eyes, grabbing Alice in Wonderland before sitting on my bed.

“Your heart rate is high,” she remarks. “Are you on drugs? Should I call Samson?”

“No!” I sigh angrily. “Liam Payne does that to me alright? Now stop questioning me.”

“Liam Payne gives you drugs?”

“No! His presence makes me uneasy!” I declare, annoyed. “It’s only my body telling me we’re not made to be near one another. That’s it,” I explain. The computer doesn’t add anything. As finally get the chance to open my book, there’s a knock at the door. Exhaling loudly, I stand up and go answer the door.

“Wh―” I stop in mid-phrase. There’s nobody. The odor of food fills my nostrils, making my head tip downwards to notice the plate of lasagna with a note at its side.

 

_If you’re really planning on staying here forever, food is going to be essential, love. Your body and brain won’t be able to function properly without it._

_Please, eat, Harry._

 

I gaze at the plate longly before my stomach growls and I decide to pick it up and bring it inside my room. Setting it on my bedside table, I lie back on my bed, cross my heels and open my book.

**“Alice felt a little irritated at the Caterpillar's making such _VERY_  short remarks, and she drew herself up and said, very gravely, `I think, you out to tell me who  _YOU_  are, first.'**

**`Why?' said the Caterpillar.**

**Here was another puzzling question; and as Alice could not think of any good reason, and as the Caterpillar seemed to be in a _VERY_  unpleasant state of mind, she turned away.**

**`Come back!' the Caterpillar called after her. `I've something important to say!'**

**This sounded promising, certainly: Alice turned and came back again.**

**`Keep your temper,' said the Caterpillar.**

**`Is that all?' said Alice, swallowing down her anger as well as she could.**

**`No,' said the Caterpillar.**

**Alice thought she might as well wait, as she had nothing else to do, and perhaps after all it might tell her something worth hearing. For some minutes it puffed away without speaking, but at last it unfolded its arms, took the hookah out of its mouth again, and said, `So you think you're changed, do you?'**

**`I'm afraid I am, sir,' said Alice.”**

“I’m afraid your food is turning cold,” Conscience remarks. Still focused on the book, I reach over beside me and take a forkful of lasagna, shoving it in my mouth.

**“`I can't remember things as I used--and I don't keep the same size for ten minutes together!'**

**`Can't remember _WHAT_  things?' said the Caterpillar.**

**`Well, I've tried to say _"HOW DOTH THE LITTLE BUSY BEE,"_  but it all came different!' Alice replied in a very melancholy voice.**

**`Repeat, _"YOU ARE OLD, FATHER WILLIAM,"_ ' said the Caterpillar.**

**Alice folded her hands, and began reciting.**

**`That is not said right,' said the Caterpillar once she was done.**

**`Not _QUITE_  right, I'm afraid,' said Alice, timidly; some of the words have got altered.'**

**`It is wrong from beginning to end,' said the Caterpillar decidedly, and there was silence for some minutes.**

**The Caterpillar was the first to speak.**

**`What size do you want to be?' it asked.**

**`Oh, I'm not particular as to size;' Alice hastily replied; `only one doesn't like changing so often, you know.'**

**`I _DON'T_  know,' said the Caterpillar.**

**Alice said nothing: she had never been so much contradicted in her life before, and she felt that she was losing her temper.**

**`Are you content now?' said the Caterpillar.**

**`Well, I should like to be a _LITTLE_  larger, sir, if you wouldn't mind,' said Alice: `three inches is such a wretched height to be.'**

**`It is a very good height indeed!' said the Caterpillar angrily, rearing itself upright as it spoke (it was exactly three inches high).**

**`But I'm not used to it!' pleaded poor Alice in a piteous tone. And she thought of herself, `I wish the creatures wouldn't be so easily offended!'**

**`You'll get used to it in time,' said the Caterpillar; and it put the hookah into its mouth and began smoking again.**

**This time Alice waited patiently until it chose to speak again. In a minute or two the Caterpillar took the hookah out of its mouth and yawned once or twice, and shook itself. Then it got down off the mushroom, and crawled away in the grass, merely remarking as it went, `One side will make you grow taller, and the other side will make you grow shorter.'**

**`One side of _WHAT_? The other side of  _WHAT_?' thought Alice to herself.**

**`Of the mushroom,' said the Caterpillar, just as if she had asked it aloud; and in another moment it was out of sight.**

**Alice remained looking thoughtfully at the mushroom for a minute, trying to make out which were the two sides of it; and as it was perfectly round, she found this a very difficult question. However, at last she stretched her arms round it as far as they would go, and broke off a bit of the edge with each hand.**

**`And now which is which?' she said to herself, and nibbled a little of the right-hand bit to try the effect: the next moment she felt a violent blow underneath her chin: it had struck her foot!**

**She was a good deal frightened by this very sudden change, but she felt that there was no time to be lost, as she was shrinking rapidly; so she set to work at once to eat some of the other bit. Her chin was pressed so closely against her foot, that there was hardly room to open her mouth; but she did it at last, and managed to swallow a morsel of the left hand bit.”**

I place the book down and grab the plate, hungrier than I initially thought. I eat keenly, practically licking my fingers off when I’m done. As soon as my stomach is filled, I find myself advancing deeper into the book. Pages are flipped rapidly as I enter Wonderland as if it’s my own world. I’m so deeply in it; I end up at the last page within a few hours.

**`Wake up, Alice dear!' said her sister; `Why, what a long sleep you've had!'**

**`Oh, I've had such a curious dream!' said Alice, and she told her sister, as well as she could remember them, all these strange Adventures of hers that you have just been reading about; and when she had finished, her sister kissed her, and said, `It _WAS_  a curious dream, dear, certainly: but now run in to your tea; it's getting late.' So Alice got up and ran off, thinking while she ran, as well she might, what a wonderful dream it had been.**

**But her sister sat still just as she left her, leaning her head on her hand, watching the setting sun, and thinking of little Alice and all her wonderful Adventures, till she too began dreaming after a fashion, and this was her dream:--**

**First, she dreamed of little Alice herself, and once again the tiny hands were clasped upon her knee, and the bright eager eyes were looking up into hers--she could hear the very tones of her voice, and see that queer little toss of her head to keep back the wandering hair that _WOULD_  always get into her eyes--and still as she listened, or seemed to listen, the whole place around her became alive the strange creatures of her little sister's dream.**

**The long grass rustled at her feet as the White Rabbit hurried by--the frightened Mouse splashed his way through the neighbouring pool--she could hear the rattle of the teacups as the March Hare and his friends shared their never-ending meal, and the shrill voice of the Queen ordering off her unfortunate guests to execution--once more the pig-baby was sneezing on the Duchess's knee, while plates and dishes crashed around it--once more the shriek of the Gryphon, the squeaking of the Lizard's slate-pencil, and the choking of the suppressed guinea-pigs, filled the air, mixed up with the distant sobs of the miserable Mock Turtle.**

**So she sat on, with closed eyes, and half believed herself in Wonderland, though she knew she had but to open them again, and all would change to dull reality--the grass would be only rustling in the wind, and the pool rippling to the waving of the reeds--the rattling teacups would change to tinkling sheep- bells, and the Queen's shrill cries to the voice of the shepherd boy--and the sneeze of the baby, the shriek of the Gryphon, and all thy other queer noises, would change (she knew) to the confused clamour of the busy farm-yard--while the lowing of the cattle in the distance would take the place of the Mock Turtle's heavy sobs.**

**Lastly, she pictured to herself how this same little sister of hers would, in the after-time, be herself a grown woman; and how she would keep, through all her riper years, the simple and loving heart of her childhood: and how she would gather about her other little children, and make _THEIR_  eyes bright and eager with many a strange tale, perhaps even with the dream of Wonderland of long ago: and how she would feel with all their simple sorrows, and find a pleasure in all their simple joys, remembering her own child-life, and the happy summer days.**

**THE END**

I shut the book with a sigh.

“Well that was a waste of time,” I mutter.

“Is your book finished?” enquires Conscience.

“Yeah why?” I huff.

“I’ve been instructed to warn Samson Strife as soon as you were finished. I’ll do that right this instant.”

“Whatever,” I mumble, flipping the book once or twice in my hands before setting it on the small bedside table.  “Anyway all this nonsense about Wonderland has got me in the mood for a little nocturnal expedition,” I decide, standing up and walking to the door. As I pull on the handle, I’m met with resistance. I pull again, only to realise it’s locked. “What?”

“Must I remind you that the doors shut at 10 o’clock every night?” the intercom provides. “It’s currently eleven thirty PM. It’s late. You should go to sleep.”

“Yes, mom,” I say sarcastically, rolling my eyes.

“It’s Conscience. I thought we made that clear earlier,” the voice replies. “You need to go to sleep. You’re tired.”

“I’m not,” I shake my head, but a wave of fatigue suddenly hits me and I yawn. I shake my head once, trying to shake the weariness out of my body. As my gaze drifts, I notice some vents at the bottom of the walls are open, a small filet of grey gas escaping them.

“Conscience what’s that?!” I question, blinking rapidly.

“Sleeping gas. Samson’s orders. Subject 013 needs to head to bed.” _Sleeping gas?!_

The voice is different. It lacks the somewhat warmth Conscience has when responding.

“This is getting ridiculous,” I snarl. “I can put myself to bed alone, thank you very much,” I continue, anger brusquely surging through me. I mechanically hold a hand out towards the leaking vent, and _push_ my anger out with my mind. A jet of ice escapes my palms and latches itself on the open vent, stopping the gas. “There.”

“Starting immediate heating of the room,” the intercom declares.

A strong wave of heat hits the room, making the ice melt in a matter of seconds. I’m starting to believe Liam is right when he says it isn’t going to be a vacation here.

My eyelids are heavy as I drag myself to the bed before dropping face first in it.

“There’s no way I’m staying here if I’m forced to sleep when he wants me too,” I decide under my breath. Wearily, I manage to slip under the sheets. I fall asleep as soon as my head hits the pillow.


	7. Snowflakes and Lustful Gazes

“How did you like the book Meridelle?” Samson enquires, sitting calmly on a chair in front of me.  We’re in a room adjoining his office, furnished with a chair, a couch and a single window.

I’m on the couch, irritated to say the least as he stares back at me with a brown notebook and a pen in his hands. I cross my arms over my chest, rolling my eyes.

 “How did you like putting me to sleep like a fucking child?” I retort sarcastically. _Fucking dick._

His eyebrow cocks upwards.

“You knew about the rules. I understand your frustration but you simply aren’t allowed to leave your room after 10,” he says calmly.

“This doesn’t explain why you had to use sleeping gas to put me to sleep!” I reply heatedly. _I want to leave this place._

“You can’t leave right now—”

“Stop getting inside my head!” I shout, standing up. I glare at him, patience wearing thin and ready to run out at any moment.

“Meridelle you know I have the means to make you cooperate. Please don’t make me use them,” he states calmly.

I clench my fists, feeling power mounting through me, ready to burst out at any moment. But his gaze doesn't waver.

“Go on. Try.”

Grumbling, I slump back on the small couch. I didn’t want Derek to mess with my mind, nor did I want Tristan or Ed to mess with my emotions. They’re unsteady enough on their own.

“So the book?” he probes again. “What did you think about it?”

“A complete waste of time. Didn’t make sense. Left me unsatisfied,” I snap.

“Unsatisfied? How so?” Samson digs, jotting something down in his notebook.

“One learns lessons in books. I didn’t learn anything.”

“You read the book on the first level of comprehension--”

“It's like I'm hearing my English Lit teacher,” I huff. “Let's make something clear alright? I read for the pleasure of reading. I don't give a fuck about what this word really means and what this and that symbolizes. I read to escape this fuckery that is life and that's it.”

Strife nods.

“And don't you find that this makes you a bit like Alice? Alice escaping to Wonderland?” he enquires, pen poised to write.

“No. Not at all. Because for all I know, Alice doesn't know shit about losing someone to the hands of Death. She ends up in Wonderland because her mind is unstable.”

“But why is she unstable?”

“I don't know! And I don't care! Am I done talking with you now? I have nothing else to say!” I stand up.

“I'm sure you have plenty to say Meridelle. Especially about your sister. But I understand you are not quite ready.”

“You're delirious if you think I'll ever talk about her to you,” I snap.

“Your thoughts might just speak for themselves then,” he exhales loudly. “Fine then. You're free to go join the others. But I need to know something first.”

“What?” I groan, dropping back on the couch.

“Liam Payne.”

My skin tingles at the mention of his name.

“What about him?” I ask between clenched teeth. I try emptying my mind almost immediately, thinking about ice and snowflakes and snow. _I don't know anything_ , I convince myself.

“Did you see him yesterday between one and three?”

“No. Why?”

_Snowflakes. Ice. Snow. Frost. Anything. I don't want t think about it. I can't think about it._

He squints, eyeing me up and down.

“Your thoughts are a jumbled mess: you know there's no point in lying right? I have security cameras in numerous rooms, including yours and Payne's. You weren't in your room and there was a system failure in his room at 2:22 precisely.”

“Why would I be in Liam's room? I hate fire,” I remind him. “And you claim you know my story,” I scoff.

“You were with him for supper,” he counters.

“And? You asked me to mingle with the others and that's exactly what I did,” I snap, overly annoyed.

“He wasn't supposed to be there for supper: his recovery was quicker that it's supposed to be normally. You're hiding something.”

“Why wouldn't I be? I. Don't. Trust. You,” I enunciate.

“You don't want to be on my bad side either. I'll find out what you're doing Meridelle and I'll put a stop to it before it's even started'” he lets his threat hang for several seconds, expecting me to fess up. When I don't, he sighs. “I'll be seeing you at the end of the week then.”

I glare at him, both of us standing up simultaneously.

“Just know that I'll be keeping tabs on you,” he concludes, opening the door to his 'therapy' office.

I roll my eyes and step out, rapidly walking down the corridor leading to the common room.

It’s only when I’m a good 10 feet away from Samson that I realize that my random thoughts were the product of Harry’s gift. _Maybe we do have a small chance to get out then. Maybe. I need to find Liam and tell him I’m slightly more inclined to join his little experiments._

When I do enter the common room, I practically feel Liam’s absence. Like a throb. I see Louis lounging on a couch in the common room, munching peacefully on a carrot in a Bugs Bunny fashion. Multiple eyes fall on me as I walk towards him but I pay no attention to them.

“Where’s Liam?” I ask.

“Hello to you too Snowflake. How are you on this wonderful day?” he replies sarcastically, finishing up his carrot. “And why does my presence matter this morning when it clearly didn’t last night?”

Right. He was Disciplined yesterday.

“How are you?” I enquire.

“How am I? You have freaking healing powers,” Louis accuses, his tone hushed as I plop down in front of him. He looks around, making sure nobody was paying any attention to us. “You have healing powers and not only didn't you tell me, but you decided to help only Liam,” he hisses, as if we were talking in a library. “What did I ever do to you?”

“I don't have healing powers,” I retort, just as quietly. “What I did to him was a onetime thing―”

“What _did_ you do to him hmm? Jack him off and it miraculously regenerated his supernatural essence?” he mocks. “Pop into my room next time alright? I wouldn’t mind the treatment.”

“You’re disgusting,” I grimace, standing up. “And how was I even supposed to know you were in pain? I thought you weren’t supposed to feel any.”

“Usually I don’t. But when my essence is removed, guess what? I'm human enough to feel my cells twisting themselves and attempt to create cartoon elements. And that fucking hurts,” he snaps. “Like a billion tiny needles poking through your skin.”

“Well like I said, I don’t have any healing powers. I don’t know what Liam told you―”

“He told me you simply put your hands on him and gave him an adrenalin rush. That pretty much sounds like an orgasm to me―”

“Well it wasn’t! I don’t even know the guy! I’m not the type of girl who’ll simply go around jacking boys off for no reason!” I state angrily.

I turn around as I feel a pair of eyes on me. I gaze back at Harry, who’s sitting in front of a chessboard.

 “Our conversation isn’t over love!” Louis protests as I spin on my heel and head to where the curly-haired boy is sitting.

“Yeah it is!” I retort, not even bothering to look back at him. Harry doesn’t lift his head up from his game as I drop down on the chair in front of him.

“Thank you for last night’s lasagna,” I say after a couple seconds of silence.

“You’re welcome. How did your talk with Strife go?” he enquires, still not looking at me.

“He knows something is up. He just doesn’t know exactly what. Whatever you did to my head kept him in the dark. I believe you have a 95% chance of getting caught.”

“And the other 5%?”

“Maybe you can make it out,” I shrug. There’s a short pause.

“Samson knows something is up simply because Louis and Liam are clearly involved. He’s been keeping a watchful eye on both of them for a while now,” Harry explains, moving a black chess piece.

“Or he saw something on his cameras,” I suggest. “If he has them all over the place like he claims, we are going to get busted in no time,” I sigh, taking my head in my hands.

Harry finally looks up at me.

“We? As in you want to collaborate?” he questions, the shadow of a smile forming on his lips.

“I thought you could decipher intentions,” I mutter.

“I can. I just want to hear you say it.”

“I decided that I’m not staying here if it means that he gets to control everything I do, including when I go to sleep. I’m not a child,” I explain, feeling some of my anger mount.

“Does he know you want to leave?”

“It crossed my mind and he saw it,” I acknowledge. He bites his lip.

“That puts you at a disadvantage then. He won’t be as nice with you as he was before. You might end up in Discipline if you’re not careful enough,” he exhales.

“Can’t you hide the part of my brain that wants to leave? Just like you hid what happened between Liam and I?”

He shakes his head, moving a white chess piece.

“He’ll know I had something to do with it and I can’t jeopardize myself. Just lay low and avoid disobeying his rules and you should be fine,” the green-eyed boy reassures.

Louis arrives beside us.

“Sorry if I was an ass Meri,” he states. “Last night was rough on me and I didn’t find it fair that Liam had the chance to eat last night’s lasagna and I didn’t,” he apologizes. I look at him in disbelief. “What? I love lasagna and it’s one of the only good meals in their shitty cafeteria,” he defends. I shake my head, rolling my eyes.  “And to make it up to you, I’ll tell you where Liam is.”

“Where is he?”

“Burning off some calories at the gym. Get it?” he chuckles. The sound of cartoon laughter and clapping resonates out of him.

“You guys are allowed to work out?” I state, surprised.

“Why not? It allows us to blow off some steam. But obviously, we’re under heavy surveillance when we do work out. Pascal takes sick pleasure in reminding us that he’s in charge. He control’s one’s level of strength and energy. One time, he made Liam so weak he couldn’t even lift his hand, let alone stand.”

“When aren’t we under surveillance?”

“We always are,” both boys respond.

“What about when we’re at the bathroom?”

“We’re watched,” Zayn huffs, sitting beside Harry and in front of Louis. “And that since Louis and Liam decided to try to get the whole building to blackout by playing with the electrical outlets in the bathroom,” he trails on in annoyance. His presence makes my skin crawl.

“It would’ve worked if we would’ve gotten a little more help,” Louis butts in.

“Your idea was thoughtless and didn’t have a structure. I didn’t see the point in helping what was helpless. But if we actually take the time top map our ideas out with Meri and Payne, things are a little more interesting.”

“Not that your gift is practical in these types of situations anyways,” I mumble.

“Excuse me?!”

I regret the words I spoke as soon as I feel my body calling out for Zayn’s contact. I clench my eyes shut, a low moan stuck in my throat as the pores of my skin beg for Zayn’s attention.

“Mate stop that,” Louis demands. “Liam is going to roast you alive.”

“She’s not Liam’s.”

I moan as the dark-haired boy’s leg grazes mine under the table. I feel his hand inching up my thigh. And then the pull stops. I’m breathless.

“My gift is very practical darling,” Zayn states. “It’s the reason no boy has approached you so far except us. Because believe me, two thirds of the boys in this room want to bed you. I know, I feed your arousal with theirs.”

I feel sick.

“What?”

“Female company is a necessity when you’re at our age. At least eight boys in here have fantasized about seeing you naked and doing other things. Payne is one of them.”

“You are one of them too,” I accuse.

“I have indeed touched myself to the thought of you. I look forward to the day that you’ll be touching yourself with the thought of me.”

My stomach flips.

“Enough Zayn, you’re making her nauseous,” Harry says.

“You’re making everybody nauseous,” Louis confirms, his skin a sick shade of green.

“You’re not innocent either Tomlinson.”

Louis looks down guiltily and I find myself scooting away from him.

“You want me on your side Meridelle,” the darker boy ends.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I know there are very few of you who read this fic, but if you do, please leave a comment? thank you!


	8. Self-Defence

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Introducing Niall! ( Kind of )

The bell rings, announcing lunchtime.

“So. Who’s hungry?” Louis claps, standing up. “I’m starving.”

“I lost my appetite,” I reply, glaring at Zayn. He responds with a smirk.

“Liar,” Harry mumbles, moving another chess piece before standing up. “But you should come to the cafeteria anyways. Derek is waiting for you by your room door. I caught a glimpse at his intentions earlier.”

“Why can’t you get him to leave me alone?” I ask Zayn, keeping a reasonable distance between us as he all head to the cafeteria at the other end of the room.

“I’m not messing with Samson’s son: it’ll earn me a free trip to Discipline,” he retorts. “And anyways, the three boys who surround him are there for a reason: they protect him.”

I mull the thought as we grab a trays and head to the table where we sat yesterday. I turn to look at the trio Derek had introduced me to.

“What are their abilities?” I enquire.

“The twins, Thomas and Marcos,” Louis begins, “are shields. Thomas can shield the mind of psychological assaults whereas Marcos shields from physical assaults. But their gifts are limited to shielding one person other than themselves, and only from supernatural abilities. You could kick Derek in the nuts and trust me, he’d feel it.”

“Yesterday,” I realise. “He wasn’t harmed by Liam’s fireball.”

“Exactly.”

I peek at the blonde twins. “What about the other boy? Ryan, I think?” I probe, my gaze shifting to the dark-haired boy right beside them.

“He’s a shifter. Can turn into anything that’s alive. He’s Derek’s and Strife’s eyes and ears. Especially when he shifts into a fly.”

“I keep him away from you. His lust for you is strong,” Zayn states, taking a piece of salad between his fingers before bringing it to his mouth.

To my surprise, my skin starts humming.

I jump in shock as Liam takes a seat right beside me. Our bodies seem to have a sort of magnetic pull.

“There’s a new boy,” he declares excitedly, “from Ireland. He’s moving in the room in front of yours,” he continues, motioning Harry.

“What’s his gift?” Louis frowns.

“I have no idea. I barely saw him and he wasn’t as intense about it as Meridelle. Psyche wouldn’t tell me what his room was meant for either.”

“I had every reason to be intense,” I defend myself. “I’d just learned I’d killed my grand-parents.” I easily push away the wave of sadness that threatened to drown me at the simple thought. The four boys stare at me expectantly.

“You can cry,” Harry says. “You don’t have to keep your grief buried inside you.”

“I’m perfectly fine,” I reply. “It’s not because I’m a girl that I’ll simply breakdown and cry.”

“Suit yourself. But know that we won’t judge. Our abilities have resulted into some terrible things and that’s mainly how Strife managed to get his hands on us,” the green-eyed boy shrugs.

“Anyways, from what I’ve gathered, his name is Niall Horan and Samson is already keeping him locked up in Discipline. Which either means he’s a troublemaker of Samson is afraid of him.”

“And?”

“He could be useful.”

“Are you suggesting we tell him about our ‘plan’, without even knowing him?” Zayn scoffs.

“No. We simply observe him for a while and then we consider it.”

“Let me make everything clear then: we don’t have a plan whatsoever,” I point out. “We don’t know the extents of my gift, nor do we know anything about what could happen if Liam and I ouch for too long,” I continue, taking a single bite out of the apple I’d placed on my tray. “Not only that, but we don’t have any privacy. How do you expect to do everything unseen?” I end curiously, munching on the fruit.

There’s a long pause as they all ponder my remarks.

“What if Louis creates a room?” Liam proposes, lowering his voice considerably. “A cartoon room.”

“You say that as if I can create rooms on demand,” Louis shakes his head. “This isn’t Harry Potter mate.”

“I’m sure we could find a way to make the situation ironic and therefore force your powers to manifest,” he counters.

“Even if Louis does manage to make a room, our absence won’t be hard to miss. Or have you forgotten? Strife is watching your every move,” Zayn reminds.

“What if there was a way to put a representation of us in everyone’s minds?” I say.

“Harry can do that.”

“Do you even know how much power that would require?” Zayn exclaims. “And the cameras hmm? They won’t be affected by Harry’s mind trick.”

“Unless I associate our clone images with a specific location like the common room for example. That way, anyone who’ll look in the common room will assume we are there also,” the curly-haired boy reasons, voice slow and calculative.

“You’re not really considering this are you?” Zayn states in disbelief. “You’ll tire yourself out.”

“I don’t see any other way to proceed,” Harry nods. “Derek’s coming to our table,” he adds.

“What does that bastard want again?” Louis mutters.

“Meridelle.”

“If he touches her without her consent, I don’t think I’ll be able to resist punching him,” Liam declares.

“I can take care of myself,” I reply, slightly offended.

“If you do punch him, I’m not helping you Liam. I’ve had enough pain for the week,” Louis declares lowly.

“Nobody will be punching anybody for me,” I declare firmly.

“Meridelle! What a pleasure to finally have you among us!” Derek butts in, his voice sickly-sweet. “Though I believe you’re sitting at the wrong table,” he continues.

“I doubt that,” I retort dryly.

“Are you sure?” he enquires. I feel his words breaking into my head, destroying my will.

“I uhh…”

Hesitation seeps into my pores. _Wouldn’t I be better at Derek’s table?_ Liam’s leg brushes mine under the table.

“I’m positive,” I state determinedly, my mind free of his control once more.

“You heard the lady,” Liam nods. “Now if you could kindly get the fuck away from our table; there’s nothing for you here.”

“Wrong. I think there’s plenty for me,” he denies, taking a seat beside me.

“You are not welcome Derek,” Zayn warns. “Leave.”

“Or else what? What can you do to me Zayn? I’m untouchable,” Derek taunts, his arm wrapping around my shoulder.

Liam stands up swiftly and sends his fist in Derek’s face before I can do anything. I hear his nose crack, blood rapidly pouring out of it like a geyser. The boy cups his nose almost immediately, red filling his mouth.

“How dare you?” he splutters, standing up.

“We told you to leave us alone,” Liam snarls, his hands now flaming by his side at his irritation.

Ed and Tristan, who were once again supervising the cafeteria, are already heading towards Liam.

Scolding myself for my next move, I hold my hands out towards them and push an image of an ice rink with my mind. Next thing I know, the whole floor is covered in a sheet of ice and the supervisors are slipping off their feet and onto their asses.

“What did you do that for?!” Liam exclaims, his shocked face identical as the numerous other ones in the cafeteria. “Now they’ll bring you in too!”

“You stood up for me! Again!” I snap. “The least I can do is take part of the consequence!”

“You’ll face Discipline! God dammit Meri! The first time is the worst!” Liam’s distress makes the ice melt in a matter of seconds.

“Now look what you’ve done!” I accuse as the supervisors jump on us. I can’t help the tears as the red-head wraps his arms around me, immobilizing me. A feeling of hopelessness and sorrow fills me with such intensity I begin sobbing.

Liam curls into a ball beside me, face twisted in pain as Tristan holds him down.

“Meri you really shouldn’t have gotten involved!” he says through clenched teeth.

The both of us are dragged out of the cafeteria and to Samson’s office. Tristan knocks twice on Strife’s door. The devil himself answers. Tristan doesn’t even need to tell him what happened: he can read it for himself through the very vivid images going through our minds. His eyes fall on a whimpering Liam and a crying me.

“I can’t say I’m glad to see you here Meridelle but I’m not totally displeased either,” he begins. “I’ve been meaning to make a couple of tests on you and this is the perfect occasion. Set them up boys,” he sighs, letting them tow us across his office and through the door that lead to Discipline.

I’m still blinded by tears as Ed hauls me into a bed, strapping me in a sitting position. Something prods the inside of my elbow.

“What the fuck did you inject me with?” I ask Ed, pulling on my restraints. The red-haired supervisor keeps quiet, staring at me intently, as if waiting for something. I find out exactly what he’s waiting for when seconds later, my vision becomes hazy and unfocused. He leaves without saying anything else.

I struggle to get a proper glimpse at my surroundings.

What looks like a smaller version of a general hospital ward stares back at me. Beds with machines tethered to them are sprawled here and there. Except that oppositely to a normal ward, each bed is in a small isolated glass room, meaning everyone can see everyone.

I blink several times, succeeding to make out Liam’s shape in a room at ten o’clock of mine. From what I can gather by the bursts of orange and yellow, Tristan is struggling to get him strapped to the bed. And judging by the blackened bed at the very far end of the ward, this is a recurring situation.

I frown when I notice there’s someone else in Discipline, peacefully strapped to the bed in the glass room in front of mine. _Could this be Niall?_

I squint at the figure, trying to get a proper look at the boy but failing miserably due to whatever’s coursing through my veins.

“So Meridelle, are you ready for your first Discipline?”

Strife walks in, forcing me to look away from the guy in front of me.

“What the hell did Ed inject me with?” I grumble, watching as an unknown woman in a white jacket follows behind Strife with a bunch of vials in her hands. She places them on a small table nearby, before rolling it beside the bed.

“It slows down your vitals to facilitate the removal of your essence,” Samson replies. “But before we actually begin that process, I need to run some tests on you.”

“What kind of tests?” I grit as two more men in lab coats enter the small glass room.

“Your resistance to pain. The quantity of essence there is in a single millilitre of your blood. The amount of power it takes to drain you out completely. That kind of stuff,” he shrugs, crossing his arms over his chest as the lady with the lab coat starts playing with her vials. “I just need a complete overview of your ability for your folder. Every single subject here has one.”

I flinch as yet another needle pierces my veins. I glare at the lady, but not once does she look up at me, too focused on drawing my blood out.

“Why did you insist on taking part in the feud Liam created?” Strife asks, diverting my attention back to him.

“Your son touched _me_ ,” I answer, still unable to focus properly on anything. “I wanted to stand up for myself,” I continue, seeing absolutely no point in lying.

“From what I’ve gathered, he simply grazed your shoulder in what was meant to be a friendly action.”

“I do not like being touched and/or prodded by anyone,” I snap, feeling the tips of my fingers tingle with irritation. “Derek had no right to touch me.”

“But you reacted after Liam punched him. You tried to stall my supervisors with ice, not get back at Derek for touching you,” he counters.

I wince as the unnamed lady starts filling a second vial with my blood. Samson’s fingers latch on my chin, turning my face so I’m looking at him. His face is blurry.

“You’re hanging with the wrong crowd Meridelle,” he continues, shaking his head. “Payne and Tomlinson are trying to convince you I’m the bad guy.”

“So strapping me to a bed to draw some of my blood and make some tests on me is not being a bad guy?” I scoff, rolling my eyes. I’m getting slightly dizzy. “And Discipline seems to be such a heart-warming experience,” I add scornfully.

“We’ve been over this before Meridelle: Discipline is necessary. I put rules in place and urge you to respect them because it allows me to keep control over everyone and prevent chaos,” he sighs. “And as for these tests: even though they’re painful, they’re ultimately at your advantage.”

“Oh yeah?” I scoff. “And why is that?”

“Because we’re working on a cure. The things that are noted down are used for research in order to find a way to remove our supernatural essence permanently. I wouldn’t be able to run this institute without the United Nations support and funds, and what they want is for me to find a way to rid us of these abnormal gifts. I’m just doing my job.”

I blink, not understanding.

“A cure?” I ask softly.

“Yes. Our research team has been working day and night to find a way for us to return to our normal human conditions.”

I shut my eyes, skeptical.

“And you’d want that?” I draw out slowly, unconvinced. _He doesn’t seem to hate being able to read thoughts…_

“I’m stuck in the R.I.S.G just as much as you are Meridelle. My son and I aren’t allowed to join my wife and daughter as long as we still represent possible threats to society,” he replies seriously.

The lady finally pulls the needle out of my skin. I feel woozy.

“So I apologize in advance because these next tests are going to be painful, but they are necessary,” Strife ends, nodding once in the direction of the two silent men. Samson takes a step back as both of them approach me. The unnamed lady rapidly rolls her chariot with my blood out of the room, locking the glass door behind her before I lose sight of her blurry figure.

“Where do I―”

“Her heart Bradley. The heart is always the main source,” Strife huffs.

“But she’s a girl―”

“I know that! Just get as close as the heart as you can.”

“This is going to sting,” the first man, Bradley warns me, before placing his hands right below my left breast.

I scream as a nerve-wracking surge of electricity does a rapid lap around every single one of my cells, passing through my bloodstream like nails raking on a chalkboard. My back arches without my consent.

“I said a small shock Bradley!” Samson scowls as Bradley moves his hands away from my body, leaving me trembling and shuddering on the bed. My breathing is ragged, my vision nearly gone. “We’re supposed to go gradually!”

“It was a small shock!” he defends. “Somehow she accentuated it!”

“Carl soothe her.”

“No don’t touch me!” I demand, recoiling as the other approaches me.

He doesn’t listen to me, carefully placing the tips of his fingers where Bradley’s hands had just been. A soothing sensation follows, as if water was cooling down my electricity-scorched veins. My pulse slows down as Carl steps back.

Bradley moves forwards again.

“I swear to God if you touch me again, I’m fucking freezing this whole building!” I threaten, an involuntary shiver racking my body once more.

“We need fire,” Strife realizes. “Ice can conduct electricity but fire can’t.”

I shake my head rapidly.

“Not fire. Anything but fire!”

“Meridelle these tests are necessary if we want to find a way to make us normal―”

“No fire!” I repeat, fists clenching.

“Maybe this is a great time to face your fear―”

“No!”

My body reacts reflexively, shivering as cold jolts out of every single one of my pores. All I see before losing consciousness is white.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Comments are always welcome!


	9. Icy Territory

❅❄❅

_“I tried Joy! I tried but they wouldn't listen to me!” I sob. “They don’t understand!”_

“Her body went in shock and created this reflexively!”

“All of this must be melted immediately. We can't continue if she has that barrier around her, now can we?”

The voices sound far-away, as if a great crevice separated me from them. Unable to get a proper grasp on reality, I feel myself fading away to unconsciousness once more.

                                                                                      ❅❄❅

 

I'm jolted awake by searing pain running through every single one of my cells. My vision is hazy and my lips are trembling. I feel as if someone is pulling my soul out of my body with their bare hands. The pain is so acute I can't even bring myself to scream, let alone open my eyes.

“How are her vitals?” I recognize Strife's voice.

“Steady.”

“And has she regained consciousness?”

“It appears so.”

“Good. Let's move her to her room and let her body do the rest,” Samson decides, sighing. “This little mishap has us running really late on schedule. It’s been nearly five hours.”

I'm powerless to move as hands lift me off the bed. My arms are placed around shoulders, held in place by warm hands. My head lolls sideways, my feet dragging on the floor as I'm hauled back to my room semi-consciously.

Pain licks my insides every single time I inhale, tiny pinpricks of ice slicing through my throat mercilessly.

I groan feebly as I'm carefully placed on my bed. I open my eyes momentarily, shutting them just as quickly, the whiteness of my surroundings blinding me.

A violent shudder racks my body, freezing my insides. I begin shivering, my teeth chattering as I wrap my aching arms around myself and wish for a spark of warmth. Anything to make this cold go away. I can't help tearing up, the salty droplets pooling into my eyes before I blink them away.

Thinking hurts. Everything hurts. I can’t do anything but lay there and let the pain crash on me like the torrid waves of a relentless tsunami. My ears are buzzing, my skin is frozen.

“I’ll make this all better Meri.”

I manage to open my eyes for mere seconds, getting a glimpse at Liam’s blurry figure.

“No,” I protest weakly but speaking is insufferable. “Samson will see—”

“Harry is taking care of it. I’ve had this planned since my own Discipline is over,” he denies, cutting me off.

“It’s danger—”

“We have to try,” he persists, his warm hands encasing my own. The heat is so welcoming I find myself wanting it everywhere on me. He doesn’t even wait for me to beg him; his hands aim for the source of all this cold: my heart. The second his fingers come into contact with the top of my chest, warmth spreads through me like a wild fire and makes my insides melt. The pain is subsided with something very similar to pleasure and suddenly, it’s like I can breathe again. Like warm honey is running through my veins, soothing them.

Liam breaks the contact, eyes wide in awe.

The feeling of warmth accentuates hastily through my limbs. I suddenly feel so hyper I jump to my feet. My skin is tingling, buzzing alive.

“So it is a two way thing,” he realizes. “I can regenerate--”

“Shh!” I hastily put my hand over his mouth. “There are unwanted ears in here,” I snap. “If you want to keep a secret, this is certainly not the way to do it,” I continue quietly, motioning the speaker on my rooms ceiling.

“How do you feel?” he questions, looking me up and down.

“Restless. Seriously, I feel as if I could run a whole marathon right now,” I admit, breathless with fresh adrenalin. I brusquely punch his shoulder. “You shouldn’t have done it though! It could have been dangerous!” I continue.

“I knew what I was doing.”

“Your heart rate has spiked drastically. Is Liam Payne giving you drugs?” Conscience enquires out of the blue.

Liam frowns, looking down at me.

“What?”

“She's making assumptions―”

“Last time your heart rate was nearly this high, you blamed Liam Payne,” she defends.

I grit my teeth and clench my fists, blushing furiously.

“You blamed me for you high heart rate?” Liam chuckles.

“Samson should be informed if Liam Payne is giving drugs,” Conscience persists.

“You can't tell Strife anything Conscience. And he is not giving me drugs,” I retort, annoyed.

“Why wouldn't I tell Samson?” Conscience replies. “Give me one good reason, and I might keep this to myself,” the robot voice negotiates.

“You are programmed to take care of my needs, aren't you?” I say. “It's your main function?”

“As well as informing Samson of any anomalies.”

“Well it's not an anomaly. I'm doing exactly what Samson wants: mingling with the others. I'm not used to talking to others and because it makes me nervous, my heart beats faster. That's all,” I state firmly. “There is nothing to report, I've never been better.”

“Alright then. I'm watching you though,” she warns.

Once I'm sure she's on snooze, I punch Liam's shoulder.

“What is wrong with you?! And why weren't _you_ in pain! I saw you get Disciplined!” I whisper-shout in annoyance.

“Two things: a, the first Disciplines are always the longest because Strife takes advantage of the situation to go through useless tests and b, you somehow created a sphere of ice and snow when Strife began the tests, slowing the whole process down drastically. They were still trying to find a way to make the whole thing melt when I got carried out. How did you do that by the way?” he enquires.

“I don't know! It just happened!” I defend myself. “I have absolutely no control over my powers,” I grumble. “I need to punch a wall,” I realise a second later. “I really need to hit something.”

“I know the feeling. You need to blow off some steam,” Liam agrees. “We could go to the gym,” he suggests.

“Now?!”

“Why not?”

Liam moves to the end of my room, pulling the door handle. The door doesn't budge.

“I'll tell you why not: it's past curfew,” Conscience intervenes. “I couldn't let you open the door even if I wanted to. My program lines are very strict on this matter.”

“Dumbass!” I turn to Liam. “You should've checked the time when you decided to pay me a visit!” I exclaim, rolling my eyes while rubbing my temples in disbelief.

“You should thank me Meri. You would be in pain for another 5 hours if it wasn’t for me,” he states. “I can tell you from experience that it is impossible to sleep when your supernatural cells are lacking.”

“But I didn't ask for your help! Stop trying to help me Liam! ” I demand angrily.  I'm suddenly on the verge of breaking down, trembling on my feet as I'm suffocated by the excess of adrenalin and Liam's presence.

Out of the blue, the brunette's arms wrap themselves around my shoulders, pulling me in a tight hug. I shut my eyes tightly.

“Calm down,” he murmurs quietly, rubbing my back. “Just take ten tiny breaths and clear your head,” he continues.

And then brusquely, I'm crying about absolutely everything. I weep for my sister's death, for my parent's abandon, for my grand-father's hate, for everyone's incomprehension, for killing my grand-mother, for getting locked in the R.I.S.G.  My brain keeps adding things to cry about and I'm unable to stop the wrecked sobs from coming out of my mouth. Liam doesn't say anything. He just holds me in his arms and lets me cry until there's no more water in my body for me to keep crying.

It feels good to let it out. To be consoled.

“I'm sorry for ruining your uniform,” I sniffle in his chest, looking at the stain of my body fluids.

“Don’t like the damn thing anyway,” he shrugs. There’s a pause. “I was wondering when you were finally going to let yourself cry for your losses,” he states quietly, looking down at me. “We’ve all done it. And I think I speak for Louis and Harry too when I say we’re all here for you if you need someone to talk to.”

I shake my head.

“Liam I can’t possibly list you all the things that went wrong with my life,” I state brokenly. “There are too many.”

“Maybe not...but your gift can apparently,” he mumbles in surprise.

“What?”

“Look,” he murmurs in awe, pulling away from me as he gazes over my head. I wipe my tears with the back of my hand, looking behind me. My heart skips a beat.

The walls of my room are completely covered with frost. But the frost, varying in thickness and shades of white, has recreated multiple images of my life.

My mouth is open in shock as I gaze at the illustrations. There's the clear outline of me at my sister's funeral, followed by me moving out of my parent's house and heading to my grandparents. Right beside is a picture of me sleeping on my homework as well as one where I'm eating my lunch in the school's bathroom. The last one illustrates me and Liam hugging just now.

“Beginning immediate melting of the room,” Conscience warns.

“No!” Liam demands. “Wait. I wanna see.”

“There's nothing to see Liam. It's just my wretched life,” I protest.

“Well it intrigues me,” he responds softly, approaching the walls. The thought of being completely exposed to Liam frightens me terribly.

I rapidly place myself in front of him, stopping him.

“No. I don’t want it to intrigue you Liam, and I certainly don’t want you to start pitying me. Heat up the room Conscience,” I say.

As soon as my words are pronounced, there’s the clear noise of the heater starting. The frost melts in a matter of seconds.

“Why?” Liam asks, looking at me. “Why don't you want to let me in?”

“I'm not ready yet Liam,” I shake my head. “If you don't pressure me into talking to you, I mind end up sharing a couple of things but there's no way I can possibly let you in on everything. It's been barely two weeks,” I reply.

“But--”

“I know you mean well. I do. But I'm not ready to share this stuff with you,” I persist. “Now please drop it.”

“Fine,” he huffs after staring at me for a couple seconds. “I won't bring it up ever again until you do.”

“Thank you.”

“Now for sleeping arrangements―”

“I'm not tired,” I state. “I'm far from being tired.”

“I don't doubt it, but if you start being rowdy and drawing attention to yourself, Samson is more likely to find out your essence regenerated way too quickly and he will either remove more essence next time you get Disciplined or figure I had something to do with it.”

“I don't want to get Disciplined ever again,” I admit. “It hurts like hell. Felt as if everything was frozen inside of me and I couldn't breathe.” I shudder, recalling the pain I'd felt a moment ago.

“I know. Everybody experiences it differently, but it makes everyone’s gift turn against them. My theory is that since our supernatural essence is removed, our body suddenly loses all sense of it and tries to compensate by overdoing the whole thing. So my body heats up drastically because it's only reference for heat is my usual temperature, which I believe is controlled by my gift,” he pauses. “That may explain why we can regenerate each other’s essences: for some reason, our bodies notice the excessive difference in temperature and exchange the difference, therefore easing the regeneration process for our cells.”

“Wow,” I blink, only understanding half of what he just said.

“And all of this proves one thing: the mutation is a part of us. Which ultimately means that Samson will never be able to remove our supernatural essence completely because our body functions according to it. We would die painstakingly slowly if all of it would be removed.”

“So he lied to me earlier,” I realise. “He said he was doing those tests to try and make us normal again.”

“There's no 'again' Meri. We've always been this way.”

“But I've only been able to use it for less than a month...”

“I think it needs to be triggered. By what, I'm uncertain,” he frowns, thoughtful.  “But on thing I know: never ever trust Strife. He wants you to feel safe and tries to give reasons for what he does but he's a sick man. He enjoys seeing us suffer and exerting control over us.”

I rub my temples, trying to process the new information. _So I'd be stuck with ice powers forever? This is so not great._

Liam yawns.

“Well I'm really tired...I had to suffer the whole five hours on my own,” he stretches his arms and yawns again before heading to the door once more. “Conscience...Can you please let me return to my room?” he asks the robot, hand pulling on the doorknob.

“I told you Payne. My system forbids me to do so, unless there's an emergency,” the computerized voice responds.

“Such as?”

“Anything life threatening for Meridelle.”

“Would a fire do?”

“No. No you are not starting a fire in my room,” I protest, a shudder racking my body.

“Meridelle I need to head back to my room and a tiny one right beside the vents would do the trick―”

“Sleep here. I'm not tired, use the bed, I really don't care. But I don't want you starting a fire,” I persist.


	10. Puns and Innuendos

He eyes me longly.

“You sure you're not tired?” he repeats, sliding onto my bed.

“Positive. I doubt I'll be sleeping tonight, unless Samson decides to send in some sleeping gas again. But he thinks I'm still writhing in pain on my bed so I also doubt that,” I grumble, walking in hasty circles around my room.

“He did what?”

“Put me to sleep with gas. Fucked up right?” I mutter.

“You're perturbing him,” Liam gathers. “More than anyone of us. You're aggravating him, hence why he doesn't have much patience with you.”

“You mean he doesn't treat all newcomers with such warmth?” I enquire sarcastically.

“Usually, he gives them a month worth of warnings. And now that I think of it, no one's been in Discipline after barely two weeks either,” he scowls.

“Maybe he’s sexist.”

“Maybe that’s what he wants to figure out,” Liam agrees, brusquely sitting up in my bed. “He wants to know why you’re the only girl who has gifts like the lot of us.”

“Maybe I’m the only girl he’s found _so far_. Maybe there are others like me. Out of 7 billion people, I can’t possibly be the only girl,” I deny, trying to convince myself.

“Maybe… but if he doesn’t find the answer in your DNA, I seriously have no idea where else he can find it...” the older boy yawns, lying back down on his back.

I sigh, sitting down on the floor in discouragement. I suddenly stand back up, unable to sit still.

“Liam?”

I’m responded with soft snores.

My shoulders slump and I look up at the ceiling.

“I need to drain some of my energy,” I state morosely.

 

❅❄❅

 

The second I hear the sound of my door unlock, I bound to my feet and run out the corridor, eager to drain the excess of energy still buzzing through my veins.

But just my luck, I bump into Louis.

“Hey there snowflake,” he chuckles, steadying me. “Care to tell me where you are going so early in the morning?”

“Can you tell me where the gym is?” I counter.

He frowns, looking at me up and down.

“You have bags under your eyes love. I think you’re due for a little rest…”

“No, I can’t sleep,” I shake my head. “I wasn’t able to sleep a wink last night.”

“Does this have anything to do with Payne staying in your room?” he enquires, wriggling his eyebrows suggestively.

“Get your mind out of the gutter you perv,” I reply. I jump a little, wanting to get moving. “I simply want directions to the gym.”

“It’s not open at this time sweets,” he shakes his head. “Opens in two hours. Right after breakfast.”

I groan, taking my head into my hands in frustration. I need to punch something. I need to run. I need to drain some energy.

“No need to be moaning at me Meridelle,” he chuckles, “I haven’t even touched you.”

I grit my teeth.

“But,” he stops me as I raise my hand to punch his shoulder, “I can be your punching bag if that’s really what you need,” he suggests.

“What?!”

“I can’t feel pain. And I’m pretty sure I can whip up something similar to a punching bag for you,” he elaborates, a cooking whip magically appearing in his hands. He immediately makes it disappear. “Let’s go to my room, shall we? Less dangerous that way.”  The itch to hit something overpowers my reluctance to follow him to his room.

“Fine,” I agree. “Fine, fine, fine.” I sigh tapping my foot, the excess irritatingly racing in my veins. “Let’s go to your room and get this over with.”

“I like the way you think snowflake, but I’m not that easy to tire—”

“Enough with the innuendos,” I retort dryly. “Or I’ll be sure to aim for your family jewels Tomlinson.”

“Alright alright… hakuna your tatas Meridelle, I’m just messin with ya,” he laughs, the Lion King song suddenly resonating from his trousers.

“Louis!” I snap.

He sighs. “You’re no fun at all,” he shakes his head, “Oh well.” Adding nothing, he leads me down the corridor to the empty common room, then up the East hallway, the shimmering E glimmering over the entryway. “Welcome to my sleeping quarters,” he says dramatically, opening the door with the number 7.

I don’t know what I was expecting, but it sure isn’t what’s in front of me.

The room is filled with coins, the bed and bedside table buried under masses of silver. As I step in to inspect the coins, I realize they are all quarters.

“Admit it, I’m hilarious,” the British boy boasts, stepping in behind me.

“Your power really is spontaneous huh?” I mumble, fingers twitching.

“It often takes sayings literally so it isn’t hard to make something happen when I feel like it,” he shrugs. “Best part though is that I can make its doings disappear when I want to.” He snaps his fingers and the coins disappear, revealing a room very similar to mine.

Something annoys me though. I take a good look around, noticing there doesn’t seem to be any speakers.

“You have no robot to reprimand you?” I enquire. “Nothing stops you from using your powers in here?”

“Well it’s not like Samson can do something against everything and nothing at once. And luckily, my ability is exactly that,” he explains, holding his arms out as if to say ‘its out of my control’. “And unfortunately that’s why Ryan is my neighbor. He’s the one keeping tabs on what my gift decides to do.”

I search a bit in my head. “Ryan. He’s the dark-haired guy who can shift right?” I recall, picturing the boy hanging out with the twins and Derek. “Turns into animals and stuff?”

“Yeah. Derek’s and Samson’s eyes and ears… Can’t even whack off in peace without the bugger telling on me…” he sighs and I roll my eyes. “Anyhow, time to become your human punching bag, as you so poetically put it.”

He shifts before me, his body changing color and twisting itself abnormally to become a black sack of sand tied to the ceiling. I’m in awe to say the least.

“So you’re positive I won’t hurt you?” I ask just to be certain, fists clenching and unclenching.

“Do you need a little motivation? How about you pretend to strike Strife?” Samson’s face promptly appears on the bag. Louis’ voice comes within the bag, making the whole ordeal so much weirder. “Or maybe Zayn’s?” The face alters, the darker boy’s mocking features replacing Samson’s. “Hit me. Or should I say, hit on me,” he taunts, imitating Zayn so well I grimace.

I send my fist flying onto the sack, frost spreading where my skin comes in contact with the material. But it feels good. It’s exhilarating. I need more. I steadily keep hitting the bag, adding more power to the hit each time. I feel the hyper alertness dropping, my blood slowing down in my system slowly but surely.

“That’ta girl. Give me all you’ve got,” Louis continues, the face on the bag mutating back to Strife’s. I grunt, kicking it this time. The punching bag flies sideways and as it comes hurling back towards me, I send both my fists into the fabric, screaming with all my pent up anger. Ice flies out of my digits, freezing the whole sack stiff.

Brusquely, all tension leaves my body and I find myself excessively relaxed, finally ridden of the surplus of energy.

The chain holding the bag to the ceiling breaks and the sack falls to the floor with a loud thump, chunks of ice shattering. My eyes grow big with worry.

“Louis?” I enquire softly. _Fuck did I hurt him after all?_

 More ice cracks and falls to the ground as the bag becomes alive once more, twisting and turning. I breathe a sigh of relief as it finally shifts back into Louis’ form.

“Now that’s what I call blue balls,” he laughs, wiping the last icicles off his clothing. “No wonder you need Payne to heat things up a bit in the bedroom.”

I roll my eyes, exhaling in disbelief.

“You’re incorrigible!” I exclaim, throwing my hands in the air all while heading for the door.

“No! Meri wait!” His hand catches my wrist. I pull it away almost immediately. “Meri, I’m sorry,” he insists. “I don’t mean to be an ass with all my pervy comments. I really don’t. I simply,” he takes a deep breath, rubbing the back of his neck. “I’ve been here a while alright? And before all this madness,” he motions around, “I had someone very dear to me at home. Believe it or not, I had a girlfriend.”

I refrain from scoffing, seeing the turmoil in his deep blue eyes.

“I used to make all these innuendos and bad puns simply to make her laugh. I like hearing girls laugh in general but she made the nicest sounds when she giggled,” he sighs. “I just want to hear you laugh Meridelle and I realize I haven’t been using the right tactic. You’re not like her. I get that now. I’ll really try to watch my mouth around you. I don’t want you to be continuously angry after me. I like you. I want to be your friend.”

I blink.

“I accept your apology,” I say finally.

“Friends?” he enquires, holding his hand out.

“Friends,” I agree, carefully shaking his. “Don’t make me regret this Louis.”

“Thank you. I swear I’ll be an angel when it comes to innuendos from now on,” he breathes out in relief, a bright halo glowing over his head. He doesn’t release my hand, squeezing my fingers appreciatively between his. “Come on, let’s go fetch some breakfast,” he ends, leading me to the door. “Unless you want to do some more punching?” He pauses in the doorway.

“I’m good,” I deny. “Got it all out.”

“Good.”

Barely five minutes later, Louis, Harry, Liam and I are all seated at the farthest table in the cafeteria, munching on plastic-tasting eggs and dry toast. As I munch without much appetite, I find myself missing my grandparents’ warm, tasty food. _But you killed them Meri._ I wince at the thought. My mood drops, a chill running through my body.

Liam shifts closer to me, his hand encompassing mine. A very passive warmth flows out of his fingertips and into mine, soothing me. I give him a thankful smile. He returns it.

“Lads I’ve been doing some thinking and I really want to try something,” Zayn states as he arrives with his own tray, few minutes later. To my surprise, he squeezes in between Liam and I.

“Good morning to you too,” I grumble, scooting away from him.

“Yeah you’re kind of in our bubble mate,” Liam states between clenched teeth. As if on cue, Louis hiccups and a giant bubble expands out of his mouth, encasing the five of us.

“Perfect. Exactly what I wanted. Harry, keep our representations immobile for a sec yeah?” Zayn asks. The younger boy nods. “Liam. Meri. Stand up.”

“Why?” I retort, eyeing the thick bubble around us warily.

“You’ll see. I just want to try something.”

“I don’t trust you,” I retort, crossing my arms over my chest.

“I simply want to see if the abnormal bond between you and Payne can go through another person. Through me since my gift works best through touch.”

“No.”

“Payne can barbecue me if it takes too long alright?”

“Or Meri can frost your balls off,” Louis ponders out loud.

“I swear to god Zayn if I feel so much as an inkling of arousal towards you, I’m castrating you,” I threaten, agreeing with Louis.

“Fine, fine. I’m simply curious. Now give me your hands, both of you.”

I reluctantly let his hand grab mine. To my surprise, his grip is soft. Liam grabs Zayn’s other hand with a sigh.

“Ready?” the darker boy asks.

“We could say that,” I grumble, tense to say the least. I shut my eyes and wait for Zayn’s power to take effect.

“Nothing,” the darker boy sighs after a moment. “I can feel something putting an halt to my ability even if you’re not actually touching.”

“What would happen if Meridelle and Liam touch while still in contact with you?” Harry enquires.

“I think we should keep the testing for later,” Liam denies. “You’re tiring yourself out keeping us hidden. Your nose is bleeding,” he points out worriedly.

Harry wipes his nose with the back of his hand, leaving a crimson trail on his skin.

“Later then,” he agrees reluctantly. “Let’s all resume our original places that way no one will doubt anything.”

“That means I get to sit beside you sweets,” Zayn winks, squeezing between Liam and I once more.

“You make one wrong move Malik,” I warn, letting my threat hang as I take my previous seat. Once we’re all back in position, Louis makes the bubble pop and we all get back to eating, avoiding unwanted attention.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I know. It's been almost a year. And Im not giving you much. But like I've said many times, im not abandoning any of my fanfics. They will all be completed sooner or Later.


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